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Central  University  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall  after  two  weeks. 

Date  Due 


CI  39  (1/91) 


THE    FABLES 


OF 


LORIAN 


•J.    J.    GRANDVILLE. 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THK  FRENCH  BY 

GEN.    J.    W.    PHELP8, 

.  LATK    MEMBER    OF    THE    VERMONT    IIISTORICJAL    SOCIETY,    AUTHOR    OF 
"  A  HISTORY  OF  MADAGASCAR,"  ETC. 


Nkw   York: 
JOHN    B.    ALDKN,    PUBLISHEE 

1888. 


THE  UNlVERSin  LIBRAW 
wrnoiTv  nr  r.M;.;;:i^ilA.  SAN  DIE» 


Copyright,  18S8, 

BY 

THE  PROVIDENT  BOOK  COMPANY. 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 


FABLE.  PAGE. 

I.  Truth  and  Fable,         --------  7 

II.  Tlie  Mirror  of  Truth,         -------  10 

III.  The  Three  Rivals,        --------  13 

IV.  The  Two  Travelers,           -------  14 

V.  The  Inquisitive  Cat,     --------16 

VI.  The  Carp  and  Her  Young,            ------  18 

VII.  The  Two  Gardeners,    --------  21 

VIII.  The  Gardener  and  the  Aged  Tree,           -----  24 

IX.  The  Ivy  and  the  Thyme,        -------  27 

X.  The  Child  and  the  Looking-Glass.           -----  28 

XL  The  Two  Cats,              --------  BO 

XII.  The  Prince  and  the  Nightingale,             -----  g^ 

XIII.  True  Happiness,           --------  33 

XIV.  The  Shepherd  and  the  Nightingale.        -----  35 
XV.  The  Laugliing  Solitaire,          -            -            -            -            -            -            -37 

XVI.  The  Two  Young  Warriors,           ------  39 

XVII.  The  Fox  as  a  Preacher,           -            -                        -            -            -            -  41 

XVIII.  The  King  of  Persia, 44 

XIX.  The  Rhinoceros  and  the  Dromedary,            -            -            -            -            -  45 

XX:  The  Peacock,  Two  Goslings,  and  the  Diver,     -            -            -            -  47 

XXI.  The  Miser  and  His  Son,          -------  49 

XXII.  The  Old  Mans  Advice,     -------  51 

XXIII.  The  Rope  Dancer,        - -  51 

XXIV.  The  Monkey  and  the  Ape, 54 

XXV.  The  Linnet  and  ihe  Turtle-Dove.       ------  56 

XX VI.  Hercules  in  Heaven.          -------  59 

XXVII.  The  Philosopher  and  tlie  Owl, 60 

XXVIII.  The  Leopard  and  the  Monkeys, 62 

XXIX.  The  Two  Bald  Heads, 65 

XXX.  The  Two  Peasants,            ---...-  66 

XXXI.  The  Law-suit  between  Two  Foxes,               -           -           -           -           -  69 


4  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

FABLE.  PAGE. 

XXXII.  The  Viper  and  the  Blood-Sucker,           -           -           -           .           -  72 

XXXIII.  The  Learned  Collegians,        -------  74 

XXXIV.  The  Crocodile  and  the  Sturgeon,             -----  77 
XXXV.  The  Caterpillar,           .---:-..  79 

XXXVI.  The  Juggler,           - 81 

XXXVII.  The  Grasshopper, -           -            -  83 

XXXVIII.  The  Hedgehog  and  the  Rabbits,             -           .           .           -           .  87 

XXXIX.  The  White  Elephant,              -----           -^          -  91 

XL.  The  Guilty  Dog,     -            -            -            -           -           -            -            -  93 

XLI.  The  Sage  Advice, -            -    "        -  97 

XLII.  The  Dog  and  the  Cat,        -------  99 

XLIII.  The  Canary  and  the  Crow,     -            -            -            -            -            -            -  101 

XLIV.  Tlie  Monkey  with  the  Magic  Lantern,                -            -            -            -  103 

XLV.  The  Three  Fortune  Seekers,                -            -            -            -            -            -  106 

XLVI.  The  Persecuted  Poodle,                 -            -            -            -            -            -  109 

XLVII.  The  Dove  and  the  Magpie, 113 

XLVIII.  The  Squirrel,  the  Dog,  and  the  Fox, 115 

XLIX.  King  Alphonso, -            -  118 

L.  Death's  Choice  of  Prime  Minister,          -----  119 

LI.  The  Journey,               - ISO 

Closing  Lines,        -           -           -                       =           "           "           -  121 


PREFACE. 

Jean  Pieeke  Claris  de  Florian,  the  author  from  whose  fables 
the  following  selections  have  been  made,  was  born  in  1755,  in  the 
Chateau  de  Florian,  at  the  foot  of  the  Cevennes  in  Languedoc, 
France.  His  mother  was  a  lady  of  beauty  and  excellence  of  char- 
acter, of  Spanish  origin,  whose  maiden  name  was  Gilette  de  Saigné. 
One  of  his  uncles  had  married  a  niece  of  Voltaire,  and  it  was  prob- 
ably through  Voltaire's  influence  that  at  the  age  of  thirteen  he  be- 
came a  page  in  the  family  of  the  Duke  de  Penthièvre,  a  nobleman 
of  great  worth  and  distinction,  who  was  respected  even  by  his 
enemies. 

From  the  house  of  this  nobleman  Florian  went  to  Ferney  to  com- 
plete his  education.  It  was  there,  Avhile  imbibing  a  taste  for  let- 
ters, that  he  excited  a  lively  interest  in  Voltaire,  who  was  pleased 
by  his  frank,  talented,  and  amiable  conversation,  and  used  occa- 
sionally to  help  him  in  getting  his  lessons.  It  is  creditable  to  the 
independence  and  integrity  of  Florian's  character  that,  althouo-h 
brought  at  an  early  age  under  the  influence  of  a  genius  so  winning 
and  powerful  as  that  of  Voltaire,  he  yet  preserved  his  individuality 
and  followed  a  literary  career  peculiarly  his  own,  which  was  quite 
opposite  to  that  of  his  old  and  gifted  friend. 

At  the  age  of  sixteen  Florian  entered  the  artillery  school  of  Ba- 
paume.  It  appears  that  he  was  very  well  pleased  with  the  militar}^ 
profession,  and  from  the  royal  cor23S  of  artillery  he  joined,  as  Lieu- 
tenant, the  Dragoon  regiment  of  Penthièvi'e,  where  he  was  pro- 
moted to  a  Captaincy.     But  as  lie  advanced  in   years,  his  attach- 


6  FLORIAX'S    FABLES. 

lueDt  to  letters  seems  to  have  acquired  the  ascendency  over  his  mili- 
tary tastes.  He  became  a  prolific  and  pojDular  writer  ;  but  among 
all  his  works  probably  his  Fables  will  longest  retain  a  hold  of  pub- 
lic appreciation.  They  have  been  translated  into  many  languages, 
and  have  run  through  more  than  one  hundred  editions. 

Though  he  had  exercised  the  office  of  gentleman-in-ordinary  and 
almoner  to  the  Duke  de  Penthièvre,  and  had  in  that  capacity  ad- 
ministered relief  to  the  poor  with  great  delicacy  and  benevolence, 
yet  when  the  revolution  broke  out  he  was  accused  of  writing  verses 
in  honor  of  the  queen,  and  hurried  off  to  prison.  He  lived  for  a 
time  in  momentary  expectation  of  death  ;  for  his  prison,  that  of  La 
Bourbe,  had  come  to  be  noted  as  the  inevitable  first  step  towards 
the  scaffold.  The  death  of  Robespierre,  however,  restored  him  to 
liberty  ;  but  his  imprisonment  seemed  to  have  left  a  melancholy 
shade  upon  his  spirit  that  time  never  fully  removed.  He  died  on 
the  17th  of  September,  1794,  in  the  thirty-ninth  year  of  his  age. 

There  is  perhaps  no  especial  value  in  the  present  translation  over 
those  which  may  have  gone  before  it  ;  but  its  interest  is  heightened 
by  preserving  the  illustrations  of  J.  J.  Grandville,  which  are  fine 
specimens  of  French  art  as  it  existed  some  half  a  century  ago. 
While  they  are  hardly  inferior  to  the  best  of  such  productions  of 
the  present  day,  from  any  school  of  art,  it  is  believed  that  they  will 
prove  to  be  highly  entertaining  to  the  reader.  It  must  be  admitted 
that  the  artist  has  done  his  author  full  justice,  although  the  fables 
are  so  highly  esteemed  by  some  that  they  have  been  favorably 
compared  with,  and  even  equalled,  to  those  of  La  Fontaine.  The 
world  will  hardly  assent  to  that  opinion,  perhaps,  but  still  Florian's 
fables  will  ever  be  found  interesting  and  instructive,  and  for  this 
reason  these  selections  from  them  are  now  offered  to  the  American 
public. 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE     I. 

TRUTH  AXD  FABLE. 

At  length  ainoiiL;-  munkind  to  dwell, 
Truth  came,  all  naked,  fi-om  liei-  well. 
By  living  there  so  long  alone, 
She  had  a  little  passée  grown  ; 
And  old  and  young  all  fled  surpris'd 
The  moment  she  was  recognizM. 
Poor  Tkutii  remain'd  confounded  (juite 
By  such  an  uususjDected  slight. 

Just  then  she  clianc'd  to  see 

Fable  in  all  her  finery, 
Triclv'd  out  in  plumes  and  diamonds,  too 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


« 


(The  most  of  these  wei'e  false,  'tis  true, 
But  yet  were  dazzling  to  the  view), 
Who,  in  familiar  courtesy. 
Exclaimed  :  "  Oh,  here  you  are,  I  see  ! 
And  quite  alone,  too,  I  observe. 

AVh}^  are  you  here. 

My  sister  dear  ? 


TRUTH    AND    FABLE. 

What  end  do  you  propose  to  serve  ? 

Pray  tell  me,  if  you  j^lease." 
Says  Truth  :  "  I  find  I'm  here  to  freeze; 
For  all  I  meet  upon  the  road, 
Deny  me  shelter  or  abode. 
I'm  shunn'd  as  if  in  fear  or  hate  ; 
But  that,  alas  !  must  be  the  fate 
Of  dames,  like  me,  when  out  of  date." 
"  Not  so,"  says  Fable  in  reply, 
"  For  you  are  younger  still  than  I  ; 
And  yet,  if  I  may  be  believ'd, 
I'm  ev'rywhere  still  \vell  receiv'd. 
But  let  me  ask,  why  'tis  that  you 
Expose  your  nakedness  to  view  ? 
That's  not  discreet.     Now  list  to  me, 
Since  well  our  int'rests  do  agree  ; 
Let  my  bi'oad  mantle  drape  your  form  : 
'Twill  serve  to  shelter  both  from  harm. 
Among  the  wise,  for  }'our  sake. 
All  will  my  foolish  sayings  take  ; 
And  with  the  fools,  because  of  me. 
You  always  \vell  receiv'd  will  be." 
Thus  Fable,  side  by  side  with  Truth, 
Like  as  two  sisters,  liand  in  liaud, 
Will  teach  and  please  both  age  and  youth, 
And  welcoin'd  be  in  ev'ry  land. 


10 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


.-^/^ 


FABLE    II. 

THE  MIEROR  OF  TRUTH. 

In  that  fam'cl  time,  the  age  of  gold, 
When  peace  prevail'd  in  every  land, 
And  simple  Truth  herself  made  bold 
To  rove  at  large  with  glass  in  hand, 
Each  in  her  mirror  dar'd  to  trace. 
Without  a  blush,  his  own  true  face. 


THE    MIRROR    OF    TRUTH.  11 

But  crimes  udcI  vices  stole  iu  fast, 
And  soon  those  liappy  days  were  past. 
Then  Truth,  disgusted,  to  Heaven  flew, 
And  back  to  earth  her  mirror  threw. 
Alas  !  'twas  broken  in  the  fall, 
And  scatter'd  wide  and  lost  to  all. 

Long  centuries  after  it  was  seen 
How  very  great  the  loss  had  been  ; 
And  wise  men  then  be2:an  with  care 
To  seek  out  Avhere  the  fraorments  were. 
They  sometimes  find  them,  here  and  there. 
But  very  small  and  very  rare  : 
So  that  they  prove  of  little  worth. 
The  truest  man  of  all  the  earth. 
With  strongest  mind  and  purest  heart. 
Can  see  himself  therein  but  part. 


12 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE    III. 


THE  THREE  RIVALS. 

Once  on  a  time  rose  fierce  disputes 
Between  tliree  very  gentle  linites — 

The  ox,  the  horse,  and  ass. 
Their  overweening  pride,  alas  ! 
As  oft  with  men  of  seemiuçr  sense, 
Led  them  to  strive  for  precedence. 
Perhaps,  my  friend,  you  may  deride 
The  thought  of  asses  having  pride  ; 
But  are  not  others  sometimes  vain. 
And  aim  at  rank  they  can't  attain  ? 


THE    THREE    RIVALS.  13 

The  patient  ox  witli  humble  mien, 
Describ'd  what  worker  he  had  been  ; 

How  great  his  strength  ; 

And  then  at  length 
Dwelt  on  his  great  docility. 
The  courser  boasted  of  his  worth, 
His  noble  carriage  and  his  birth  ; 
The  ass  of  his  utility. 
"  Let's  leave  the  question  to  three  men  ; 
For  here  they  come,"  exclaimed  the  horse  ; 
"  If  two  decide  for  one,  why  then 
We'll  yield  the  palm  to  him  of  course." 
The  ox,  who  bore  an  honest  face, 
AVas  charged  to  plainly  state  the  case, 

And  ask  for  judgment  thereupon. 
One  of  the  men  a  jockey  was. 
And  therefore  plead  the  horse's  cause, 

Because  the  horse  could  run. 
"Nay,  nay,  my  friend,  it  is  not  so," 
One  of  the  men — a  cartman — said, 
"  The  horse  is  only  fit  for  sliow  ; 
I  put  the  useful  ass  ahead." 
"Oil,  what  great  folly  !"  said  the  third, 
"  Whoever  falser  notions  heard  ? 
'Tis  [)lain  to  farmers  of  good  sense, 
The  ox  should  have  the  preference." 
"AVhat!"  said  the  courser  in  a  huff, 
"Judgment  like  this  is  merest  stuff'! 
'Tis  interest  that  rules  with  you." 
"  Pooh  !  "  said  the  jockey,  "  that  is  ti-ue  ; 
But  is  it  somethins:  strange  or  new  i  " 


14 


FLOBIAN'S    FABLES. 


f4 


>^'4*t7^i.  "^ 


-^'^*=^      <r_ 


FABLE    IV. 

THE  TWO  TRAVELERS. 

Two  friendly  comrades,  Tom  and  Bill, 
Were  on  their  way  to  Thionville, 
When  Thomas  found 
A  purse  of  gold  upon  the  ground. 
"  What  a  wind-fall  for  us  !^'  said  Bill. 


THE    TWO     TRAVELERS.  15 

"No,  not  for  us,"  Tom  quick  i-eplies; 
''  To  me,  alone,  belongs  the  prize." 
Bill  answered  not.     But  soon  tlieir  wajr 
Led  them  where  ambush'd  robbers  lay. 
Tom,  trembling,  would  have  taken  Hight, 
But  rivetted  by  his  affright, 
Exclaimed,  "  Alas  !  we  are  undone  !  " 
"  Not  we,"  says  Bill,  "  but  you  alone." 
And  saying  so  he  nimbly  flies, 
And  through  a  hedge  securely  hies. 
But  Tom  is  capturVl,  gagg'd,  and  bound. 
And  robb'd  of  all  the  gold  he'd  found. 

Who,  like  our  hero,  is  inclined 

To  keep  good  luck  for  his  own  ends. 
Must  soon  or  late  be  doom'd  to  find. 

When  ill  luck  comes  he'll  have  no  friends. 


IG 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


•«•«/.M;., 


FABLE    V. 


THE  INQUISITIVE  CAT. 

Ye  bold  philosophers  who  strain 
Th'  ioexplicable  to  explain, 
Deign  but  to  listen  while  I  tell 
What  once  a  curious  cat  befell. 

This  tabby  one  day  chanced  to  pass 
Before  her  master's  toilette  glass  ; 
And  made  an  effort  to  come  at 


THE    INQUISITIVE    CAT.  17 

What  seemed  to  her  a  stranger  cat. 
Failing  in  front  the  cat  to  find, 
She  slyly  then  stole  round  behind. 
Not  meeting  there  the  cat  she  sought, 
And  almost  to  her  wit's  ends  brought, 
Yet  bent  the  mystery  to  explore, 

She  mounted  on  the  glass  astride, 
One  paw  behind  and  one  before 

And  in  that  way  to  catch  it  tried. 

Now,  bending  down,  an  ear  she  spies. 
And  then  another,  which  she  eyes  ; 
Then  with  spry  movements,  quick  and  deft. 
Working  her  paws  from  right  to  left, 
She  strives  to  grab  the  fleeting  shade. 
The  shadows  still  her  grasp  evade, 

Till,  losing  balance,  down  she  Avent — 
Down  from  the  table  to  the  floor — 
Eesolv'd  to  hunt  for  shades  no  more, 

But  with  plain  sense  to  be  content. 

Turning  away  from  things  so  nice, 
She  left  the  glass  and  went  for  mice. 
*'  For  what,"  thought  she,  "  can  be  the  use 
Pursuino;  matters  so  abstruse  ?  " 
Tnvolv'd  in  snares  without  an  end. 
Which  none  can  ever  comprehend, 
Let  AN'ise  philosophers  discuss. 
What  has  no  use  for  them  or  us. 


18 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE  VI. 

THE   CARP  AND  HEE  YOUNG. 

"Take  care,  my  little  ones,  take  care, 
Beware  the  river's  bank,"  she  said, 
"  The  treacherous  hook  is  lurking  there  ; 
The  hawk  is  hov'ring  in  the  air  ; 
Keep  ever  to  the  river's  bed." 
Thus  'midst  the  waters  of  the  Seine, 
The  cai-p  once  plead,  yet  plead  in  vain, 


THE    CARP    AND    HER     YOUNG.  19 

With  her  young  fry. 
'Twas  April  ;  aud  tlirough  all  the  sky, 
The  warm  and  moisty  zephyrs  flew, 
To  wake  the  mountains  from  their  dreams; 
And  fill  again  the  languid  streams. 
Which  ovei"flow'd  the  country  through. 

Oh  then  to  see 

The  revelry 

Of  the  young  fry, 

As  brisk  and  spry. 
They  darted  through  the  swollen  flood  ! 

"  Where's  now  your  fear. 

My  mother  dear  ? 
There's  nothing  here  but  good. 
The  flood  is  to  a  deluge  grown, 
The  whole  world  now  is  ovei'&own, 
And  its  dominion  is  our  own. 
What  is  the  need,  midst  such  a  sea, 
In  fear  of  hooks  or  hawks  to  be  ?  " 
Thus  said  the  young  fry  in  their  glee. 
"  No,  no,"  the  mother  straight  replies, 
"  This  flood  is  but  a  moment's  rise  ; 
Your  only  safety,  as  I've  said. 
Is  not  to  leave  the  river's  bed." 

''  Oh  pish  !  " 
Exclaimed  the  mad  young  fish. 

"  You  Aveak  old  carp  I 
You  always  on  that  one  string  harp  ! 
We  are  resolv'd  to  leave  the  Seine, 
And  enter  on  our  new  domain." 


80  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

So  sayiug,  off  the  young  ones  go, 

Exulting  in  the  ovei"flow. 

We  need  not  on  their  journey  dwell, 

For  soon  the  risen  waters  fell  ; 

The  carplings,  caught  in  shallow  pools, 

The  fools! 
Were  hurried  to  the  frying  pan. 
Now  let  him  tell  me,  he  who  can, 
Why  did  these  carplings  disobey, 
And  from  the  river  stroll  away  ? 
Was  it  because  they  thought  they  knew 
Their  mother's  counsels  were  not  true  ? 
Or  was't  they  wanted  something  new  ? 
Or  did  they  think  that — Ah,  my  friend  ! 
To  such  inquiries  where's  the  end  ? 


THE    TWO    GARDENERS. 


2J 


Ay 


?J>^^ 


FABLE    VII. 

THE  TWO  GAKDENERS. 

Two  brotlier  gardeners  bad  the  lot 

To  fall  heirs  to  a  garden  spot. 

They  halved  in  peace  the  legacy, 

Working  together  day  by  day, 

Living  in  perfect  amity, 

Each  managing  in  his  own  way. 

One  of  the  two,  whose  name  was  John, 


22  FLO  RI  AN  \S    FABLES. 

A  gift  of  speech  much  doted  on. 
He  thought  himself  a  man  of  wit. 
That  e'en  for  LL.D.  was  iit. 

He  had  the  knack 
Of  conning  o'er  the  ahuanac. 
Of  books  and  charts  he  kept  a  stock, 
And  daily  eyed  the  weather-cock. 
Still  to  his  genius  giving  wing, 

He  sought  to  know 
How  from  one  single  pea  could  spring 
The  thousand  peas  that  from  it  grow  ; — 
Why  from  the  linden's  tiny  seed 
A  tree  so  lofty  should  proceed, 
While  from  the  bean's  far  ampler  size 
A  mere  shrub  comes  that  shortly  dies  ; 
And,  above  all,  how  beans  should  know 
Their  branches  up  from  earth  to  throw, 
Yet  downwards  thrust  their  roots  below. 
But  while  in  search  of  truths  like  these, 
He  quite  forgets  his  cabbages. 

His  wat'ring  pot 

Is  too  foi'got. 
He  fails  his  fig-trees  to  protect, 
Aoiainst  the  cold  north  winds  that  freeze, 
While  wilted  drops  his  lettuces, 
And  all  things  suffer  from  neglect. 
He  has  no  fruit  ;  and,  what  is  worse, 
There  is  no  money  in  his  purse  ; 
So  that  our  learned  doctor  lacks. 
In  spite  of  all  his  almanacs. 


THE    TWO     GARDENERS.  23 

The  means  wherewith  to  live, 
And  fain  must  take  what  others  give. 

His  brother,  np  at  break  of  day, 
Went  to  his  work  with  right  good  wWi  ; 
Sung  with  the  birds  a  cheerful  lay, 
And  never  failed  liis  lot  to  till. 
Setting  aside  the  things  unknown, 
And  mindful  of  his  crops  alone, 
In  simple  faith  he  sow'd  his  field, 
And  was  re^varded  b}'  the  }ield. 
He  dug  and  water'd  ev'rything, 
From  gooseberry  to  apricot  ; 
And  none  to  market  e'er  could  bring 
Of  fruits  and  plants  a  finer  lot. 
Hence  he  had  money  and  to  spare, 
And  with  his  brother  ^vell  could  share. 
"  How  is't,"  said  Jolni,  "  my  brother  dear, 
That  you  know  how  to  thrive  so  well  ^" 
His  brother  answered  :  "  'Tis  quite  clear  ; 
AVe  need  not  on  the  myst'ry  dwell, 
/go  to  ^vork  and  till  tlie  ground, 
AVhile  i/on  <lo  naught  but  rack  your  brains  ; 
And  wliile  with  me  all  things  abound, 
Yoii  get  but  labor  for  your  pains. 
The  question,  tlien,  I  leave  to  you, 
Wliich  is  the  wiser  of  the  two  ?  " 


24 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE    VIII. 

THE  GARDENER  AND  THE  AGED  TREE, 

A  tree  that  in  a  garden  stood, 
Had  grown  too  old  for  doing  good  : 

Sucb  is  the  fate  of  all. 
It  was  a  pear-tree  that  no  more 


THE    GARDENER    AND    THE    AGED    TREE.  25 

Its  former  luscious  fruitaç^e  bore  : 

And  hence  was  dooni'd  to  fall. 
Scarce  liad  th'  ungrateful  gardener  sunk 
His  sharp-edged  axe  into  its  trunk, 

When  thus  the  old  tree  spoke: — 
"  Oh  think  of  all  the  good  I've  done  ; 
The  fruit  I've  borne  ;  the  praise  I've  won, 

And  spare  the  murd'rous  stroke  ! 
Oh  do  not  hasten  to  thei]'  end 
The  few  last  days  of  your  old  friend  !  " 
The  ingrate  answer'd  : — "  Yea,  indeed, 
I'm  truly  loath  to  lay  you  low  ; 
But  still  of  wood  I  stand  in  need, 
And  cannot  to  the  forest  go." 
The  nightingales  then  intercede  ; 
Gush  out  a  long  and  loud  refrain. 
And  of  th'  intended  Avrong  comjJain.- 
They  ^vake  the  gardener's  memor}- — 
His  wife  oft  sitting  'neath  tliat  tree, 
And  listening  to  their  song  tlie  while 
Tlieir  dulcet  notes  her  cares  beo'uile. 
But  lie,  unheeding  their  appeal, 
liesolv'd  another  blow  to  deal. 
The  aged  trunk  the  stroke  broke  in,  ' 
Which  rais'd  around  his  eai's  a  din. 
For  out  there  came  a  swarm  of  bees, 
And  gave  tlT  intruder  woi-ds  like  these  : — 
"  What  are  you  doing,  wretclied  man  ? 
Your  int'rests  injuring  all  you  can  ! 
Are  you  not  able  to  [)erceive 


36  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

That  if  this  hoaie  to  us  you'd  leave, 
Our  honey  of  more  worth  would  l)e 
Than  all  the  wood  of  this  old  tree  ? 
All  tender  memories  apart, 
Does  not  this  reason  reach  your  heart  ?  " 
"  Ah,  yes  !  "  the  gardener  said  at  last, 
"  What  happy  days  have  here  been  past  ! 
Much  do  I  owe  this  good  old  tree 
For  all  the  fruit  't  has  given  me. 
How  oft  my  wife  has  hither  stray'd, 
To  sit  beneath  its  soothing  shade, 
While  'midst  its  whisp'ring  leaves  above, 
The  uicrhtins-ales  recall'd  our  love  ! 

Yes,  let  the  old  tree  stand  ! 
And  for  these  bees  whose  honied  store 
Will  make  me  richer  than  before, 

With  flowers  I'll  plant  the  land." 

So  thus  it  is,  we  may  rely, 

Tliat  mankind  grateful  will  be  found. 
When  only  ev'ry  means  we  try. 

To  have  them  by  their  int'rests  bound. 


THE    IVY    AND     THE    THYME.  3? 

FABLE    IX. 

THE  IVY  AND  THE  THYME. 

*'  How  I  do  pity  yon,  indeed, 
My  sorry,  little  trembling  weed  !  " 
Once  said  the  ivy  to  the  thyme. 
^'  Yon  ahv\ays  creep  and  never  climb. 
Whilst  scarce  above  the  ground  you  rise, 
T  mount  this  oak  and  seek  the  skies  : — 
The  old  oak  which  Jove  cherishes, 
My  comrade  is." 

^'  I  know,"  the  thyme  replied,  "  'tis  true, 
In  height  T  can't  dispute  with  you, 
But  my  support  is  all  my  own, 
While  you  could  never  stand  alone. 
'Tis  by  that  tree  you  mount  so  high  ; 
Alone  you  could  not  climb  at  all  ; 
But  in  your  feebleness  would  fall. 
And  creep  e'en  lower  than  I." 

Attend  ye  authors  who  ^^•ould  seek 

By  learned  Latin,  or  by  Greek, 

To  climl)  aloft  in  prose  or  rhyme: — 

Whate'er  you  do, 

Keep  well  in  view. 
These  words  of  ^visdonl  of  the  thyme. 


28 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE    X. 

THE  CHILD  AND  THE  LOOKING-GLASS. 

Ouce  on  a  time  it  came  to  pass, 
A  child  by  a  poor  woman  rais'd, 

First  saw  at  home  a  looking-glass, 
In  which  it  often  fondly  gazed. 

At  length,  by  a  mere  child's  caprice, 
But  Avhich  the  grown  man  often  shows, 

Its  raptures  for  the  mirror  cease, 
At  wliich  it  \m]y  Q-lauces  throws. 


THE    CHILD    AND     THE    LOOKING-GLASS.  39 

These  «^lances  now  Lis  rao-e  iuflame. 

At  what  he  loved  before  ; 
And  as  the  image  makes  the  same, 

He's  angered  moi-e  and  more. 

Whene'er  his  angry  fist  he  shakes, 
Or  ^vry  and  hateful  faces  makes, 
The  image,  aping  ev'ry  whim, 
Repeats  the  same  bad  thoughts  to  him. 

Enraged  at  insults  so  extreme, 
At  last  he  bui'sts  out  in  a  scream. 

His  mother  coming  wiped  his  face. 
And  gave  her  child  a  kind  embrace  ; 
Consol'd  his  wrath  and  gently  show'd 
How  'twas  those  insults  ^vere  bestowed. 

"  For,  if  you  smile,"  she  said,  "  'tis  plain, 
The  image  will  smile  back  again. 
Extend  }our  arms  for  an  embrace. 
And  't^vill  not  make  an  angry  face. 
You  see,  "whatever  you  may  do, 
The  image  does  the  same  to  you." 

So  in  the  world  at  large  'twill  be  ; 
'Tis  your  own  image  there  you'll  see. 


80 


FLORIAN\S    FABLES. 


FABLE    XI. 

THE  TWO  CATS. 

Two  cats  of  ancient  pedigree, 

The  finest  of  their  race  e'er  seen, 

Were  difï'rent  in  a  great  degree, 

For  one  was  fat  and  'tother  lean. 

The  elder  daily  had  a  feast, 

Like  senator,  or  judge,  or  priest  ; 

Was  round  and  portly,  fresh,  and  sleek. 


THE    TWO    CATS.  31 

Serene  of  brow,  and  plump  of  cheek, 

While  'tother,  eating  mice  alone, 

AVas  little  else  than  skin  and  bone  ; 

Though  ever  busy  on  the  watch, 

As  cats  should  be,  his  prey  to  catch, 

Peerino;  around  with  famish'd  look, 

In  ev'iy  cranny,  hole,  and  nook, 

He  toil'd  from  morn  till  eve,  and  yet 

Could  scarce  a  full  meal  ever  get. 

At  length,  by  hunger  sore  distress'd, 

His  elder  l)rother  he  address'd  : — 

"  How  is't  that  you  can  have  good  cheer, 

While  /  at  death's  door  am  so  near  ? 

Though  you  are  idle  all  the  day. 

And  I'm  at  work,  and  never  play, 

How  is  it,  brother,  please  exjdain, 

Why  you  are  fat  and  I  am  lean  ?  " 

"  The  reason,  brother,  's  ver}'  plain," 

Said  fatty  in  complacent  strain. 

You've  quite  too  conscientious  been. 

You  hunt  for  mice."     "  Is  that  not  right  ?  " 

The  younger  answered  with  some  spite. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  the  elder  makes  re[)ly, 

"  'Tis  right  enough,  perhaps,  Ijut  I 

Can  always  near  my  master  sit, 

And  seek  to  please  him  by  my  wit. 

I  share  his  favors,  his  repast  ; 

Ask  little  first,  take  much  at  last; 

Strive  to  amuse  him  with  my  tricks, 

Learn'd  in  the  school  of  politics, 


33  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

While  you,  my  brother,  .-ire  a  flat, 
And  serve  liim  merely  as  a  cat. 
The  real  secret  of  success, 
In  cunning  lies,  not  usefulness. 
If  you  would  prosper  here  below, 
Play  tricks  and  let  your  duties  go  !  " 


FABLE    XII. 

THE  PRINCE  AKI)  THE  NIGHTINGALE. 

A  young  prince  and  his  tutor  stray'd 
Through  a  grove  for  a  promenade. 
There,  as  the  time  upon  him  hung 

AVith  heavy  weight — 
(Such  is  the  usage  of  the  great), 
A  bird  beneath  the  folia^-e  suno;  : 
It  was  the  charming  nightingale. 
Should  not  the  princel}"  rank  avail 
To  cage  the  bird  without  delay  ? 
But  hunting  through  the  leafy  shade, 
So  great  the  fracas  that  he  made, 
The  l^ird  took  fright  and  flew  away. 

"Why,"  said  His  Highness,  in  great  wiath — 
"  Why  does  this  bird  thus  shun  my  path  ? 
Why  does  he  choose  this  desert  waste, 
While  spai'rows  round  my  palace  feast  ? 

His  tutor  answerd  : — "  This  will  show 
What  some  day  you  will  come  to  know  ; 
Fools  crowd  in  plenty  to  be  bought. 
While  merit  hides,  and  must  be  sous^ht." 


TRUE    HAPPINESS. 


83 


;lWllî 


W.EES~.l.fLClB 


FABLE    XI 11. 

TRUE  ILVPPINESS. 
A  poor  young  cricket,  small  and  shy, 
Pass^inir  retir'd  liis  sunnner  Lours, 
Belield  one  day  a  buttei-fly, 

Flittino-  amono;  tbe  flowers. 
Of  ev'ry  color,  ev'ry  hue, 


34  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

The  sfaiuly  insect  well  miirbt  boast. 

From  flower  to  flower  it  gaily  flew, 

Alightiug  where  it  pleasVl  him  most. 

''  Alas  !  "  the  pining  cricket  sigli'd, 

''  What  diffrences  us  two  divide  ! 

While  Nature  does  so  much  for  him, 

For  me  she  nothing  does  at  all. 

I'm  void  of  sense  and  coarse  of  limb, 

With  figure  despicabl}'  small  ; 

I'm  heeded  not,  am  lone  and  lorn. 

And  might  as  well  have  not  been  born." 

But  Avhile  the  cricket  thus  complain'd, 

A  sudden  uproar  round  him  reign'd  ; 

A  troop  of  children  rushing  by. 

Came  hunting  for  the  butterfly. 

With  nets,  and  hats,  and  kerchiefs  too, 

The  gaudy  insect  they  pursue. 

He  struggles  hard  to  get  away. 

But  falls  at  last  a  helpless  prey. 

One  seizes  on  his  wings  of  gold  ; 

Another  at  his  body  aims  ; 

A  third  upon  his  head  lays  hold  ; 

In  short,  each  one  the  insect  claims, 

But  leaves  him  mangled,  dead,  and  cold. 

"  Ah,  ha  !  "  the  cricket  said,  "  I  see 

AVhat  'tis  a  brilliant  thing  to  be. 

If  such  the  cost  to  those  who  shine, 

/  ought  no  longei'  to  repine  ; 

But  to  live  happy  I  must  be 

Contented  with  obscurity." 


THE    SHEPHERD    AND    THE    NIGHTINGALE. 


35 


FABLE    XIV. 

THE  SHEPHERD  AND  THE  NIGHTINGALE, 

One  balmy  niglit  iu  charming  May, 
As  on  a  hill  a  shepherd  lay, 
And  from  the  sky  with  stars  o'erspread. 
The  moon  her  silv'ry  radiance  shed  ; 
While  from  the  rose  and  lilacs  there, 
y       Perfumes  were  filling  all  the  air; 
While  meadows  all  asleep  and  still, 
Were  lull'd  by  murmurs  of  the  rill, 
A  uio-htino-ale  witli  tender  strain, 
Voic'd  forth  the  peace  of  hill  and  plain, 
Which  seem'd  uprising  to  the  skies. 
From  Nature's  sweetest  harmonies. 
But  in  the  fullness  of  that  peace, 
Then  all  at  once  the  warblings  cease. 
The  bird  had  ended  her  wild  song, 
And  would  no  more  its  strains  prolong. 
The  shepherd  urged  her,  but  in  vain, 
To  sing  that  witching  song  again. 
"  No,"  said  the  bird,  "  my  days  are  o'er  ; 
These  scenes  shall  hear  my  voice  no  more. 


S6  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

For  do  you  not,  from  yonder  bogs, 
Hear  the  loud  discord  of  those  frogs. 
Who  drown  my  music  by  their  din, 
With  which  mine  own  cannot  begin  ? 
Before  their  mastery  I  yield. 
And  must  forever  quit  the  field." 
"  î^ay,"  said  the  shepherd,  "  that's  the  way 
To  give  those  croakers  their  full  sway. 
To  silence  you  is  what  they  want, 
And  strive  to  do  it  by  that  j-ant. 
When  I  am  hearing  your  sweet  airs, 
I'm  not  e'en  conscious  then  of  theirs." 


THE    LAUGHING    SOLITAIRE. 


37 


FABLE    XV 

THE  LAUGHING  SOLITAIRE. 

Tbroiio-liout  all  Greece  'twas  knowu 
That  Mysone  lived  alone — 

That  he  lov'd  ^visdom  for  herself  ; 

Was  free  from  trouble  as  from  pelf  ; 

Content  and  easy,  without  strife, 

Reflecting  on  the  things  of  life. 


38  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

In  woods  retir'd  lie  passVl  his  days, 
Far  from  the  crowd's  accustom'd  ways. 

But  iu  this  solitude, 
Where  nothing  trivial  might  intrude, 
He  would  at  times  quite  jovial  be, 
And  laugh  out  loud  and  merrily. 
At  length  one  day  two  Grecians  came, 
Attracted  by  his  laughing  fame. 
And  in  amazement  wish'd  to  know 
How  any  mortal  living  so. 
Could  laugh.     "  How  can  you  laugh,  Mysone," 
They  ask'd,  "  since  you  live  all  alone  ?  " 
"  That  is  the  very  reason  why 
I  laugh,"  was  his  reply. 


THE    TWO    YOUNG    WARRIORS. 


39 


ilk     W:\  %■■(■   i^ 


FABLE    XVI. 

THE  TWO  YOUNG  AVARRIOKS. 

Two  farraei'-boys,  geuteel  and  bright, 
AVho  in  ill-doing  took  delight 
(For  they  Avere  by  their  father  spoilVl), 
"Were  seeking  nests  the  garden  round. 
A  brood  of  partridges  they  found, 
And  in  their  joy  went  neai'ly  Avild. 
The  fledgelings  scatter  far  and  near 
Under  the  impulse  of  their  fear, 


40  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

And  to  go  free  great  efforts  make  ; 

But  the  two  urchins  here  and  there, 

Meet  and  head  them  ev^erywhere, 

Till  every  single  one  they  take. 

The  mother  trails  her  wings  in  vain  ; 

Now^  timid  flies,  and  now  makes  bold  ; 

But  uselessly  she'd  longer  feign  ; 

The  boys  get  all  their  pockets  hold. 

Each  boy  has  six  ;  one  yet  remains  ; 

And  for  this  odd  one  both  contend; 

Each  of  his  rights  and  w^rongs  complains, 

Till  of  dispute  there  seems  no  end. 

"Let  us  draw  lots!"  "No!"  "Yes!"  "Yes!"  "No!'* 

So  to  and  fro, 
The  bandied  w^ords  between  them  go. 

"  I'll  knock  you  down  !  " 

"  I'll  break  your  cro^vn  !  " 
Hot  and  hotter  the  contest  grew, 
AVhen  th'  older  one  the  odd  bird  threw 

At  his  brother's  head. 
The  younger  brother  in  reply. 
Then  let  another  birdling  fly. 
The  elder  back  another  sped. 

Neither  wdll  yield, 
Until  the  ground  is  strewn  around 

Like  any  battle  field, 
AVith  quiv'ring,  gasping,  dying  birds. 
The  father,  hap'ning  round  that  w^ay, 
Stopp'd  to  observe  the  cruel  play. 
And  to  his  boys  address'd  these  words  :— 


THE    FOX    AS    A    PREACHER.  41 

"  What  !  are  you  huigs,  that  you  should  be 
With  lives  of  innocents  so  free  ? 
AVhat  right  have  you,  I'd  like  to  know, 
To  deal  around  }'ou  death  and  Avoe, 
Like  emperors,  whose  sport  it  is, 
To  slay  mankind  like  partridges?" 


FABLE    XVII. 

THE  FOX  AS  A  PREACIIEK. 

An  old  fox,  gouty,  apoplectic. 

All  broken  down,  but  learn'd  and  wise, 

Eloquent  and  skillM  in  logic, 

His  ai't  at  moral  teachiuc^  tries. 

And  to  the  desert  rais'd  his  cries. 

His  style  Avas  fine,  liis  moral  good  ; 

Under  three  heads  his  sermons  stood  ; 

He  phainly  provM  simplicity, 

Good  mannei's  and  inteçrrity. 

Must  end  in  that  felicity 

To  wliich  a  lying  world  alhu-es, 

But  never  to  our  hopes  secures, 

Although  we  pay  for't  a  large  fee. 

At  first  he  met  ^vitli  no  success; 

None  ever  came  to  hear  him  preacli, 

Save  a  few  squirrels,  more  or  less, 

Wlio  chanc'd  to  fall  witliin  liis  reacli  ; 

i)v  timid  does,  of  little  name, 

AVlio  could  not  spread  the  preaelier's  fame. 

At  length  he  Avholly  changVl  his  course, 

And  aiinM  at  t\Tants  his  discoui'se. 


42 


FLOBIAN'S    FABLES. 


THE    FOX   AS    A    PREACHER. 

AVith  lofty  strokes  lie  boldly  dares 
To  hit  at  lions,  tigers,  bears, 
And  all  the  monsters  of  the  wood  : 
Condemns  their  ravenous  thirst  for  blood, 
Their  gluttony,  their  rage,  their  spite, 


THE    FOX    AS    A    PREACHER.  43 

Their  love  of  wrong,  contempt  of  rigbt, 
The  selfish  use  they  make  of  war, 

Et  cetera,  et  cetera. 
And  now  the  Avorld  crowd  up  to  hear 
A  preacher  of  so  little  fear. 
Deer,  gazelles,  kids,  show  their  deep  sense 
Of  his  all-powerful  eloquence. 
His  geu'rous  truths  they  recognize  ; 
He's  listened  to  with  weeping  eyes  ; 
His  fame  is  spread  the  country  round  ; 
The  tidino-s  far  and  near  resound — 
Are  boi'ne  upon  the  poplar  voice. 
Until  at  court  they  make  a  noise. 
The  lion  who  at  that  time  reign'd 
(Good  and  pious  as  things  then  went), 
To  hear  the  famous  preacher  deign'd, 
And  to  invite  his  presence  sent. 
Charm'd  with  the  royal  courtesy. 
The  preaclier  went  without  delay. 
His  sermon  now  himself  surpass'd. 
It  was  a  perfect  thunder-blast 
Aarainst  th'  infernal  thirst  iov  Llood 
Indulged  by  tyrants  of  the  \V()0(1. 
He  spoke  of  helpless  innocence, 
Oppress'd  by  lawless  insolence  ; 
Dwelt  on  the  vices  of  the  great  ; 
Their  love  of  power  insatiate  ; 
He  caird  for  justice  long  delavM, 
'Gainst  those  who  on  the  feeble  prey VI, 
Till  beasts  of  prey  all  quak'd  witli  fear 


4à  .  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Such  awful  sentences  to  liear. 

The  courtier's  at  each  other  gaz'd, 

Aud  at  such  rudeness  sat  amazYl  ; 

But  prudently  remarks  forbore. 

Because  the  king  was  pleas'd  to  be, 

Complacent  towards  this  liberty, 

Accustom'd  to  such  things  before. 

The  sermon  ended,  the  king  sent 

To  manifest  his  great  content. 

Had  the  l)old  preacher  to  him  brought, 

Aud  thank'd  him  for  the  truths  he'd  taught. 

"  What  must  I  give  you  in  reward," 

He  ask'd,  "  for  fearless  words  like  these  ?  " 

Old  Reynard,  taken  off  his  guard, 

Replied  : — '^  Some  turkeys  if  you  please  !  '* 


FABLE    XYIII. 

THE  KING  OF  PERSIA. 

Once  on  a  time  a  Persian  king 
With  all  his  court  was  at  the  chase. 
Becoming  diy,  he  found  no  spring, 
Nor  any  Avater  in  the  place. 
But  near  at  hand  a  garden  lay. 
With  citrons,  grapes  and  oi-anges, 
AVliose  juices  might  his  thirst  allay. 
"  But  God  save  me  from  eating  these  !  '^ 
The  king  exclaim'd  ;  "for  if  one  fi'uit 
I  take  from  out  that  garden  ^vall. 
These  viziers  mine  would  follow  suit, 
And  take  fruit,  trees,  and  garden  all." 


THE    RHINOCEROS    AND    DROMEDARY. 


45 


FABLE    XIX. 


THE  HIIINOCEROS  AND  DKOMEDARY. 

One  day  a  }'ouug  rliinoceros 

Tims  addressVl  the  dromedary  : — 

"  Can  you,  my  friend,  explain  to  us 

Wliv  our  fortunes  so  much  vai  \- — 


46  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

AVby  man  the  lord  of  all  our  race 
Ahvays  provides  for  you  a  place  ? 
He  gives  you  shelter,  food,  aud  care  ; 
And  e'en  his  l)read  ^vith  you  will  share. 
By  him  you  are  esteem'd  so  high, 
He  seeks  j'our  race  to  multiply. 
You  have  good  qualities,  'tis  true  ; 
Are  gentle,  sober,  never  slack  ; 
You  bear  his  burdens  on  your  back. 
His  wife  and  children  too  : 

All  this  I  own  ; 
But  are  these  merits  yours  alone  ? 
To  m  then,  is  there  nothing  due  ? 
In  fact,  I  think,  with  due  respect. 
We  well  might  man's  regards  expect 

As  well  as  you. 
AVe  furnish  him  with  horn  and  shield 
To  aid  him  on  the  battle-field. 
Yet  he  pursues  us  with  his  hate  ; 
Hunts  us  with  rage  insatiate  ; 
Despises  us,  or  in  his  wrath, 
Impels  us  to  avoid  his  path." 

The  dromedary  made  reply  : — 
"  Why  envy  us  our  lot,  my  friend  ? 
To  serve  is  nothing  ;  you  must  try 
To  make  man's  pleasure  your  sole  end. 
Be  not  surpris'd  that  he  should  show 

Such  favor  to  our  progeny  : 
The  secret  of  it,  you  must  know, 

Is  this  : — we've  learn'd  to  bend  the  knee." 


THE    PEACOCK,     TWO    GOSLINGS,     AND     THE    DIVER. 


47 


.M 


FARLE    XX. 

THE  PEACOCK,  TWO   GOSLINGS,  AND  THE  DIVER. 

His  ^vondrous  plumes  the  peacock  spread, 
And  was  admir'd  by  other  birds; 


48  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

But  two  young  geese  in  mucl-lioles  bred, 
Quawk'cl  out  their  comments  in  these  words  : — 
"  Do  see,"  said  one,  "  that  leg  of  his  ! 
And  what  an  ugly  foot  that  is  !  " 
"  And  what  a  voice  !  "  the  other  cried, 
"  Enough  to  make  the  scritch-owl  hide." 
So  pleas'd  were  they  with  their  own  wit, 
They  went  into  a  laughing  iit. 
When  of  a  sudden  up  there  came 
A  diver  from  the  depths  below. 
"  Messieurs  !  "  said  he,  "  though  you  may  blame 
The  bird  for  faults  that  we  all  know. 
Yet  is  your  voice  than  his  more  sweet, 
Or  have  you  any  better  feet. 
That  you  should  venture  thus  to  quiz  ? 
And  as  for  plumage,  let  me  say. 
You  nevei"  yet  will  see  the  day, 
When  yours  will  equal  his." 


THE    MISER    AND    HIS    SON. 


49 


FABLE    XXI. 

THE  MISER  AND  HIS  SON. 

By  wliat  strange  chance  I  do  not  know, 
But  on  a  time  it  happened  so — 
A  miser  to  the  market  went, 
And  a  small  sum  for  apples  spent. 


50  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

PlacVl  in  a  closet  in  a  row, 

They  make  a  most  deliglitful  show, 

He  counts  and  counts  them  o'er  and  o'er^ 

Then  double-locks  and  bolts  the  door, 

Yet  oft  returns  to  view  his  store. 

But  sad  indeed  this  miser's  lot, 
For  even  miser  s  apples  rot  ; 
He  sighing  eats  the  ones  that  perish, 
But  still  persists  the  sound  to  cherish. 

His  son,  a  school-boy,  on  half  fare, 
Discover'd  where  the  apples  were  ; 
He  got  the  keys,  and  with  t^vo  friends, 
For  his  short  fare  soon  made  amends. 

The  miser  came  and  stood  dismayed 
To  see  the  havoc  they  had  made, 
He  loud  exclaim'd  as  if  undone, 
"  Grive  back  my  apples  every  one, 
Or  I'll  hang  ev'ry  mother's  son  !  " 

"  Be  quiet,  father,"  said  the  boy, 
"  We  are  all  decent  fellows  here  ; 
So  be  appeas'd  and  do  not  fear  ; 
We  would  not  in  the  least  annoy  : 
We  leave  the  bad  ones  for  your  sake, 
'Tis  only  sound  ones  that  we  take." 


THE    OLD    MANS    ADVICE.  61 

FABLE    XXU. 

THE  OLD  MAN'S  ADVICE. 
"  Please  teach  me  how  a  fortune's  made," 
A  young  man  to  his  father  said. 
The  old  man  answer'd  : — "  There's  a  way 
Which  is  glorious,  I  may  say  : 
Though  'tis  the  way  least  understood  ; — 
It  is  to  serve  the  common  good  ; 
To  give  one's  life,  one's  toil,  one's  care 
In  useful  service  of  the  state." 
"  Oh  that's  a  labor  far  too  great  : 
I  want  some  way  less  hard  by  far." 
"  Well  then,  there's  intrigue,  which  is  sure." 
"  But  that  vile  way  I  can't  endure. 
From  both  hard  labor  and  from  vice 

I  would  be  free'd." 
"  Then  be  a  fool  !  Take  my  advice  ; — 
For  many  such  I've  seen  succeed." 


FABLE    XXUL 

THE  ROPE-DANCER. 

A  young  man  on  the  tight-ro23e  danc'd 
With  balance-pole  in  hand  ; 

Sway'd  to  and  fro,  fell  back,  advanc'd, 
Or  bolt  up  straight  would  stand. 

A  crowd  of  persons  came  to  see, 

His  feats  of  bold  agility. 

Now  up  he  goes,  then  down  again, 

All  free  and  easy,  light  and  spry  ; 

Rebounding  from  the  tight  I'ope's  strain, 

In  cadence  with  it  springing  high. 


53 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


THE   ROPE-DANCER. 


As  birds  that  o'er  the  water  go, 
But  barely  touch  it  with  the  wing, 
So  he  but  seem'd  to  press  the  toe 
Upon  the  quick-responding  string. 


THE    ROPE-DANCER.  53 

Of  these  exploits  grown  proud  at  length, 
He  said  one  day  : — "  Why  use  this  pole  ? 
It  weighs  me  down,  impairs  my  strength, 
Embarrasses  my  free  control — 
More  grace  I'd  have  and  freer  play 
If  I  should  throw  the  thing  away." 

No  sooner  said  than  done. 
But  once  his  pole  was  thrown  aside, 
And  his  new  dancing  had  begun. 
With  arms  outstretch'd  and  awkward  stride, 
He  waver'd,  lost  his  balance,  fell, 
Broke  his  nose,  and  all  the  crowd 
At  his  tumble  lauo;hed  aloud. 

My  dear  young  friends  !  you  know  full  well 
Tliat  he  who  has  no  check  at  all, 
Must  soon  or  later  have  a  fall. 
Though  reason,  virtue,  rule,  and  law 
Againi^t  young  inclinations  draw 

Like  a  check-rein. 
Your  fiery  passions  to  restrain  ; 
They  are  the  needed  balance-pole. 
To  keep  your  fame  and  fortune  whole. 


5é 


FLOBIAN'S    FABLES. 

in 


FABLE    XXIV. 


THE  MONKEY  AND  THE  APE. 

A  young  ape  one  day  found  a  nut, 
Wbicli  straight  into  his  mouth  he  put, 
And  set  his  teeth  on't  for  a  bite. 
He  tried  it  o'er  and  o'er  again, 


THE    MONKEY    AND     THE    APE.  55' 

But  fiiidiDg  all  Lis  efforts  vaiu, 
Threw  it  away  with  spite. 
"  My  mother  must  have  lied,"  he  said, 
"To  say  she  had  ou  such  things  fed — 

That  they  were  good  and  sweet, 
And  fit  to  eat. 
AVhat  fools  are  young  folks  to  believe 
Old  women's  tales — they  but  deceive  ! 

The  devil  take  suck  fruit, 

And  granny  too,  to  boot  !  " 
A  monkey  seizing  on  the  prize, 
Thus  to  the  foolish  ape  replies  : — 
''  See  here  !  my  friend,  I'll  show  to  you. 
That  your  good  mother  told  you  true." 
Then  ^vitk  a  stone  the  nut  he  breaks, 
And  therefrom  all  the  kernel  takes. 
And  as  he  eats 
Its  luscious  sweets — 
"  You  see,"  says  he,  "  for  food  'tis  fit. 
If  you'll  take  pains  to  open  it. 
No  good  in  this  life  one  e'er  gains, 
AVithout  some  labor,  care,  and  pains." 


56 


FLOBIAN'S    FABLES. 
A 


y 


(.MUD  XiL 


FABLE    XXV. 

THE  LINNET  AND  THE  TUETLE  DOVE. 

A  little  linnet  all  day  long 
Found  constant  happiness  in  song, 
The  while  her  friend,  a  turtle  dove. 
Nor  thought  nor  car'd  for  aught  but  love. 
"  You're  very  wrong,"  the  turtle  said, 


THE    LINNET    AND    THE    TURTLE    DOVE.  57 

"  To  waste  your  time  in  siicli  a  ^^■ay  ; 
The  greatest  pleasure  for  a  maid 
Is  to  have  lovers  ev'ry  day  : 
What  song  can  e'er  impart  the  bliss 
The  lover  feels  from  one  sweet  kiss?" 
To  this  the  linnet  warbl'd  low  : — 
"  I  could  not  venture  to  compare 
One  with  the  other  ;  but  I  know 
How  great  the  charms  of  music  are  : 

If  these  I  have, 
No  other  pleasure  do  I  crave." 
At  this  discourse,  the  dove  in  spite 
Bade  her  adieu,  and  took  to  flight. 

Years  passVl,  ten  long  and  weary  years, 
AVith  all  their  checker'd  hopes  and  fears, 
When  one  fine  day  in  spring  the  twain 
Met  in  the  same  old  grove  again. 
Great  was  the  change  they'd  undergone, 
And  long  they  stood  and  gaz'd, 
As  if  amaz'd 
At  looks  so  alter'd  and  forlorn. 

At  length  the  linnet  silence  broke, 

And  thus  politely  spoke  : — 
"  Good  morning,  friend  !  How  do  you  do  ? 
And  how  are  all  those  lovers  too  ?  " 
"  Ah  !  never  mention  them,  my  dear  : 
For  I  have  lost  them  all,  I  fear  : 
Friends,  lovers,  youth,  and  pleasures — yea, 
Everything  has  pass'd  away. 


58  FLORIAN'S    FABLES.. 

To  love  and  please  was  all  ni}-  tLought  ; 
But  what  delusion  it  has  brought  ! 
I  still  love  on,  just  as  before, 
But  then  I'm  lov'd  in  turn  no  more." 

*'  I'm  not  so  badly  off  as  you," 

The  linnet  said  ;  "  for  though  'tis  true 

I'm  growing  old,  with  loss  of  voice, 

Yet  still  in  music  I  i-ejoice, 

And  when  with  her  wild  mao-ic  trills 

The  nightingale  the  forest  fills, 

Beguiling  all  the  weary  night, 

Her  sweet  song  fills  me  with  delight." 

Though  beauty  is  a  gift  divine, 
Yet  its  possession  may  not  l)less  ; 
Its  charms  with  merit  must  combine 
To  prove  a  source  of  happiness  : 
It  fades  away, 
While  talents  stay 
And  please  e'eu  when  our  own  decay. 


HERCULES    IN    HEAVEN.  59 

FABLE    XXVI. 

HERCULES   IX  HEAVEN. 

AVben  Hercules,  his  labors  doue, 
For  his  reward  had  Heaven  won, 
The  gods  pressed  forward  to  salute 
A  hero  of  such  wide  repute. 
Minerva,  Mars,  and  Venus  came 
To  show  their  rev'reuce  for  his  name  ; 
E'en  Juno's  self  was  quite  polite 
Which  fill'd  the  hero  with  delisfht. 
But  when  with  those  assembled  there 
God  Plutus  came  with  lofty  air, 
And  gave  his  hand  with  haughty  pride, 
Our  hero  turn'd  his  head  aside. 

"  My  son  !  "  said  Jupiter,  "  say  why 
Such  anger  flashes  from  thine  eye. 
What  has  this  god  e'er  done  to  thee 
That  thou  "wàth  him  so  wroth  shouldst  be  ?  " 

"  It  is  because  I  know  him  well  : 
When  I  upon  the  earth  did  dwell, 
1  saw  him  sfoinsï  han<l  in  hand, 
W^ith  the  woi'st  knaves  of  all  the  laud." 


60 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE    XXVII. 

THE  PHILOSOPHER  AND  THE  OWL. 

AVrong'd,  persecuted,  aud  proscrib'd, 
lu  foreign  lands  compellVl  to  hide, 
For  calling  tilings  by  their  right  name, 
A  sa2:e  took  with  him  all  his  wealth — 
(His  wisdom) — which  he  kept  by  stealth, 
And  to  a  friendly  forest  came. 


THE    PHILOSOPHER    AND    THE    OWL.  61 

There,  while  poud'ring  o'er  his  woes, 

He  saw  an  owl  beset  by  foes — 

An  angry  crowd  of  Jays  and  crows. 

They  peck'd  him,  curs'd  him,  call'd  him  sot, 

And  said  he  was  no  patriot. 

"  Let's  pluck  him,"  said  they,  "  of  his  plumes — 

This  rascal  who  such  wit  assumes  !  " 

"  Let's  hang  him,"  said  the  wrathful  birds, 

"  And  judge  the  villain  afterwards  !  " 

In  vain  the  owl  implor'd  for  peace, 
And  call'd  on  them  their  rage  to  cease. 
The  sage  was  touch'd  to  see  the  owl 
Assail'd  by  words  and  deeds  so  foul 
(For  wisdom  always  makes  the  mind 
To  peace  and  gentleness  inclin'd). 
He  quell'd  the  rage,  and  ask'd  the  l^ird 
Why  such  a  mob  was  'gainst  him  stirr'd. 
"  Wherefore,"  said  he,  ''  is  all  this  strife  ? 
Why  do  these  foes  thus  seek  yoiu'  life  ?  '* 
"  My  only  crime,"  the  owl  replied, 
"  Is  one  which  they  cannot  abide  ; 
The  reason  why  I've  rous'd  their  spite. 
Is  simply  this — I  see  by  night." 


63 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


k  Mo 


FABLE     XXVIII. 


THE  LEOPARD  AND  THE  MONKEYS. 

Once  on  a  time  some  monkey  folk 

Hot-cockles  play'd. 
The  game  was  but  a  simple  joke  : 
A  fair  one  sits,  her  lap  array VI 
So  as  to  hide  a  monkey's  eyes  : 


THE    LEOPARD    AND     THE    MONKEYS.  63 

He  holds  bis  paw  to  catch  a  blow  ; 
AVho  gives  the  blow  he  does  not  know, 
But  all  his  wit  at  guessing  tries. 
Does  he  guess  wrong  ?  Oh,  then  how  great 
The  laughter,  frolic,  and  the  fun, 

The  cry,  the  frisk,  the  escapade, 

The  hop,  the  ski^),  the  gambolade 
That  through  the  crowd  of  players  run  ! 

Drawn  by  the  noise  a  leopard  came 
And  enter'd  on  the  sportiv^e  scene. 
They  trembled  at  his  very  name. 
Though  of  a  gentle  air  and  mien. 
"  Be  not  disturb'd,  "  his  lordship  said  : 
"  I  would  in  no  wise  incommode  ; 
With  no  ill  aim  do  I  invade 
The  premises  of  your  abode  : 
Let  me  with  you  enjoy  your  fun  : 

Please  let  the  sport  go  on." 
"  Ah,  sir,  how  good  it  is  of  you, 
To  honor  poor  folks  as  you  do  ! 
What  !  you  a  man  of  high  degree, 
Thus  set  aside  your  dignity, 
And  join  with  folks  so  plain  as  we  !  " 

"  Yes,  such  is  my  philosophy. 
It  is  my  fancy  to  declare, 
That  animals  all  equal  are  ; 
So  let  the  play  go  on,  I  say  ; 

Yes,  let  us  have  the  i)lay." 

Delighted  by  his  words  so  fair, 


M  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

As  by  fair  words  folks  always  are, 
The  crowd  believes  as  others  do, 
And  once  again  their  sports  renew. 
One  hides  his  eyes,  his  hand  extends, 
As  formerly  among  his  friends. 
And  straight  the  leopard  deals  a  blow 
That  makes  the  crimson  blood  to  flow. 

This  time  the  monkey  well  could  guess 

Whose  blow  had  given  him  such  distress; 

But  waiting  not  the  name  to  say, 

He  in  great  silence  stole  away. 

His  comrades  vainly  strove  to  smile; 

The  leopard  howe'er  laugh'd  outright  ; 

They  all  excus'd  themselves  the  while. 

As  best  they  might. 
And  leaving,  thus  growl'd  out  their  spite  :• 
"  The  people  of  such  lofty  tone 
'Twere  well  for  us  to  let  alone  ; 
For  hid  beneath  the  softest  paws. 
The  gentlest  of  them  have  sharp  claws." 


THE    TWO    BALD-HEADS. 


65 


FABLE    XXIX. 

THE  T\yO  BALD-HEADS. 

By  chauce  two  bald-head  beggars  found 
A  sometliing  shining  in  the  gi-ound  : 

Each  strove  to  have  the  prize. 
Thev  fouiijht,  and  fouî^ht,  with  kicks  and  blows  ; 


66  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Pull'd  hair  and  tore  their  ragged  clothes, 
And  black'd  each  other's  eyes. 

He  who  at  last  the  object  gain'd, 
Lost  his  few  locks  that  still  2'emain'd  ; 
And  when  his  prize  he  look VI  upon, 
Lo  !  'twas  a  broken  comb  he'd  won  ! 


FABLE    XXX. 

THE  TWO  PEASANTS. 

"  Bill  !  "  said  Luke  one  cloudy  day, 

In  a  sad  foreboding  tone, 
"  Just  look  at  yonder  cloud,  I  pray  ! 

How  very  black  'tis  grown  ! 
Such  threat'niug  clouds  as  that  portend 

Some  awful  end." 
"Why  ?  "  answer'd  Bill,  "  why  think  you  so  ? 
'Twill  only  be  a  common  blow.'^ 
'*  Wh}^  !  "  replied  Luke  in  a  great  pet  ; 
"  It  is  a  hail  storm,  and  I'll  bet 
'Twill  ruin  vineyards,  barley,  wheat, 
And  ev'ry  thing  we  raise  to  eat. 
Nothing  to  live  on  will  remain  : 
Famine  wall  follow,  and  in  train 
The  pest  will  come,  and  we  shall  fall, 
Village,  people,  crops  and  all  !  " 

"  The  pest  seize  on  your  storm  !  " 
Said  Bill,  getting  rather  warm  ; 

"  Don't  take  alarm  ! 
For  rest  assur'd,  the  world,  my  friend, 


THE    TWO    PEASANTS. 


67 


THE  TWO   PEASANTS. 

Is  not  yet  comiug  to  au  end  ; 
But  coutrai'}'  to  wliat  i/oiù  say, 
'Twill  still  move  on  from  day  to  day. 
'Tis  not  a  liail-cloiid  that  you  see  : 
A  simple  rain-storm  it  will  he. 


68  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

'Twill  water  ev'ry  field 

That's  siiiï'ring  now  for  rain  ; 

And  great  will  he  the  yield 

Of  ev'ry  kind  of  grain. 

A  double  crop  of  hay 

Our  labor  will  repay  : 

Wheat,  half  as  niucli  again  ; 

And  grapes  wall  load  the  plain  : 
We  shall  lack  nothing,  I  opine, 
But  casks  enouo;h  to  liold  the  wine. 

And  hence, 
We  all  shall  live  in  opulence." 

"  That's  very  bright  !  " 

Said  Luke  with  spite. 
"  AVell  !  my  ideas,  say  what  you  will, 
Are  good  as  yours,"  responded  Bill. 
"  Ok  then,"  said  Luke,  "  if  that's  the  case. 
Let's  wait  and  see  what  ^vill  take  place. 
You'd  better  be  not  quite  so  fast  : 
'Tis  ke  lau2:hs  best  who  lauo:hs  the  last." 
"  Then  God  be  prais'd  !  "  was  Bill's  reply, 
"  I  shall  not  be  the  one  to  cnj  !  " 
The  two  thus  heated,  and  in  rage, 
A  battle  were  about  to  wage. 
When  suddenly  a  puff  of  wind. 
Bore  the  portentous  cloud  away, 
Whicli  neither  hail'd  nor  rain'd  that  day, 

Nor  left  a  trace  behind. 


THE    LAW-SUIT    BETWEEN    TWO    FOXES. 


69 


FABLE    XXXI. 


THE  LAW-SUIT  BETWEEN  TWO  FOXES. 

Oh  how  I  hate  that  pedant  art, 
So  captious  and  so  very  smart, 
Which  of  a  thing  as  clear  as  light, 
Makes  all  obscure  and  dark  as  night  ; 
]\Iakes  error  right,  and  proves  to  you 
That  trutli  itself  must  l)e  untrue  ! 


70  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Th'  invention  of  tliis  art  belongs 
To  folks  once  skillVl  in  all  such  wrongs, 
The  subtle  Greeks,  who — may  they  get 
All  the  reward  for't  due  them  yet  ! 

This  art  an  old  fox  once  profess'd  ; — 

Its  perfect  master  stood  coufess'd. 

He  kept  a  school  to  teach  the  way, 

And  took  fat  pullets  for  his  pay. 

One  of  his  pupils  aim'd  to  be 

A  lawyer  of  the  first  degree, 

And  for  tuition  did  agree 

Of  case  first  gain'd  to  give  the  fee. 

In  legal  form  the  two  compact  ; 

Sifjn'd,  seal'd,  deliver'd  is  the  act. 

But  when  the  course  of  study's  done, 

The  pupil  for  injunction  sues  ; 

Declares  he  owes  his  master  none 

Of  all  the  pullets  claim'd  for  dues. 

The   leopard,  learned  in  the  laws. 

Presides  as  judge  to  hear  the  cause. 

"  May't  please  the  court,"  the  pupil  cried, 

"  If  my  case's  gain'd,  I  need  not  pay  ; 

For  so  your  honor  will  decide  ; 

And  we  the  sentence  must  obey. 

And  if  I  lose,  why,  nothing's  due, 

For  the  conditions  plainly  say, 

'Tis  only  if  I  win  I  pay. 

Such  is  the  law  I  apprehend  ; 

I  would  not,  truly,  wrong  my  friend." 


THE    LAW-SUIT    BETWEEN    TWO    FOXES.  71 

"  Nay,  nay,  uot  so,"  the  master  said, 
"  The  Liw  is  clear  upon  that  head  ; 
For  should  the  case  against  you  go, 
Then  you  should  pay  the  debt  you  owe. 
And  if  you  win,  why,  then  indeed 
You  must  pay  wp,  as  you  agreed." 

Here  I'ested  counsel  its  defense. 
The  leopard  sat  in  mute  suspense  ; 
And  by  the  w^orkings  of  his  face 
He  seem'd  confounded  with  the  case. 
But  finally  he  silence  broke, 
And  thus  his  sentence  briefly  spoke  : — 
"  In  this  sharp  case  the  court  must  rule 
The  master  no  more  keeps  his  school  ; 
And  to  the  pupil — this  award,— 
From  future  practice  he's  debar'd." 


72 


FLOBIAN'S    FABLES. 


m^'^mK^Wi 


FABLE    XXXn. 

THE  VIPER  AND  THE  BLOOD-SUCKER. 

Once  to  the  leech  the  viper  said — 

"  How  dift'erent  is  our  lot  ! 
They  who  love  you  would  wish  me  dead  ; 

Men  like  me  not. 
They  seem  to  bear  for  me  some  spite, 


THE    VIPER    AND    THE    BLOOD-SUCKER.  73 

While  OU  their  blood  they  let  you  feed. 

Like  you,  I  ouly  give  a  bite  ; 

I  do,  like  you,  but  make  them  l)leed." 

"  But  my  dear  friend,"  the  leech  replied, 

"7  bite  to  heal,  but  you  to  kill  ; 

How  many  patients  would  have  died 

But  for  the  virtue  of  my  skill  ! 

While  well  men  are  destroy 'd  by  you. 

The  health,  of  sick  men  I  renew.  * 

The  difference  't^veen  us  is,  in  chief, 

Your  bite  is  poison,  mine,  relief.'' 

My  tale  would  thus  hold  up  to  view, 
What  fe^v  have  fail'd  to  see,  I  ^vist — 
The  leech  presents  the  Critic  true  ; 
The  viper  is  the  Satirist. 


74 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE    XXXIII 

THE  LEARNED  COLLEGIANS. 

An  owl  drawn  from  his  hiding-place 

By  students  in  pursuit  of  knowledge, 

AVas  made  to  show  his  sapient  face 

Within  the  precincts  of  a  college. 

There  quartered  with  a  cat  and  goose, 

He  of  the  privilege  made  use 

To  go  with  them  the  whole  course  through. 


THE    LEARNED    COLLEGIANS,  76 

Herodotus  by  heart  they  knew, 
Deuis  of  Halicarnassus  too  ; 
And  all  that  Titus  Livy  wrote 
Like  learned  doctors  they  could  quote. 
Discussing  once  as  doctors  do, 
They  pass'd  the  ancients  in  review. 

"  Upon  my  faith,"  the  cat  exclaim'd, 
"  The  Egyptians  were  of  all  most  fam'd. 
No  people  ever  were  more  wise, 
More  law-abiding  or  discreet — 
None  more  religious  'neath  the  skies  : 
For  that  alone  I  think  it  meet 
That  Egypt  should  bear  off  the  jirize." 

The  owl  responded  :  "  In  my  view, 
To  Athens  the  first  prize  is  due. 
Whoever  kne^v  such  wit,  such  grace, 
Such  bravery  in  any  race  ? 
No  state  more  noble  men  e'er  bore. 
Or  with  less  means  accomplish'd  more. 
Of  all  the  nations  Greece  rank'd  first." 

"  Hold  there  !  "  the  goose  in  wrath  outspoke, 
"  You  reckon  Home,  then,  last  and  worst  ! 
Perhaps,  my  friends,  you  are  in  Joke. 
What  nation  ever  ecpialFd  Rome  ? 
In  grandeur,  glory,  arts,  and  war, 
Egypt  and  Greece  can't  near  it  come. 
All  nations  it  excel  I'd  by  far  : 
The  men  of  Rome  my  fav'rites  are. 
They  conquer'd  on  both  land  and  sea  : 


76  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

To  this,  at  least,  you  must  agree." 

But  while  the  pedants  thus  debate, 
They  each  l^ecome  more  obstinate, 
Until  a  rat  who  had  much  wit 
From  eating  learned  manuscript, 

Cried  to  the  crew  : — 
"  I  see  why  each  should  hold  his  view  : 
In  Egypt  men  adord  the  cat  ; 
The  Athenians  worshij)'d  owls  ; 
The  Romans  petted  and  made  fat 

The  goose  as  first  of  fowds. 
As  }^our  self-interest  points  the  way, 
So  your  opinions  turn  and  sway." 


THE    CROCODILE    AND    STURGEON. 


in 


FABLE    XXXIV. 

THE  CROCODILE  AND  STURGEON. 

Upon  the  banks  of  ancient  Nile, 
Two  urchins  stopp'd  to  play  a\vhile  : 
Over  the  waters  smooth,  profound, 
They  made  flat  pebbles  skip  and  bound. 
But  soon  an  end's  put  to  their  ])lay — 
A  crocodile  disturbs  their  fun  ; 
He  seizes,  crushes,  swallows  one, 


78  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

While  'totber  runs  away. 
A  sturgeon  saw  the  niurd'rous  deed, 
And  hasten'd  oft'  with  all  his  speed — 
From  horror  at  the  act  he  fled. 
To  hide  deep  in  the  river's  bed. 
But  there,  amidst  distressing  fears, 
Strange,  unexpected  news  he  hears — 
The  crocodile  w^as  shedding  tears  ! 
Could  murderers  then,  Avith  blood  still  wet, 
For  their  foul  deeds  feel  such  regret  ? 
Was  he  then  suft''ring  from  the  stings, 
AVhich  true  contrition  alwa3'S  brings  ? 
And  can  the  gods  have  the  intent 
T'  avenge,  not  save,  the  innocent  ? 
This  villain  surely  now  relents, 
And  of  his  wickedness  repents. 
"  I'll  go  to  him  and  tell  him  true. 
What  it  imports  his, soul  to  do." 
The  honest  sturgeon  then  proceeds 
To  seek  the  monster  'midst  the  reeds. 
"  Yes,  weep,"  said  he,  "  as  well  you  may, 
For  this  foul  deed  you've  done  to-day. 
Hemorse  a  balm  is,  and  it  heals 
The  pains  a  wounded  spirit  feels. 
Then  use  this  balm  with  thanks  and  joy. 
You  monster  !  thus  to  eat  a  boy  ! 
Now  that  repentance  you  have  felt  ; — 
Now  that  in  tears  your  heart  does  melt. 
There's  yet  relief  from  all  your  fears." 
"  Pooh  !  "  said  the  knave,  "  that  I've  shed  tears 


THE    CATERPILLAR.  7» 

Perhaps  is  true  ; 
But  not  for  what  I've  done  to-day, 
In  that  I  did  but  one  boy  shiy  ; 
'Twas  that  another  got  away, 
Which  I  had  hop'd  to  swallow  too  !  " 

Such  tears  as  these  we  may  believe 
Are  often  shed  when  sinners  grieve. 


FABLE    XXXV. 

THE  CATERPILLAR. 

One  day  the  animals  began 
The  silk-worm's  wond'rous  works  to  scan. 
"  What  talent,"  they  exclaimed,  "  she  shows  ! 
How  glossily  her  spinning  glows  ! 

How  rich,  and  smooth,  and  bright  !  " 
All  present  her  nice  thread  extoll'd  ; 
'Twas  fine,  and  soft,  and  shone  like  gold, 
And  well  the  proudest  might  delight. 

Did  we  say  all  ? — No,  one  there  was, 
Who  in  the  thread  could  find  some  flaws. 
It  was  the  caterpillar^  who 
Was  pleas'd  to  take  another  view. 
With  buts,  and  ifs  she  seems  to  doubt, 
And  hesitates  at  speaking  out. 


80 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


'■%M  ...  ihhl  /A 


THE  CATERPILLAR. 


But  why  should  she  thus  disagree  ? 
"  Oh,"  cried  the  fox,   "  I  plainly  see  ; 
My  lady  takes  a  contr'y  view, 
Because  she  is  a  spinner  too." 


THE    JUGGLER. 


81 


V. 


r' 


K-, 


FABLE    XXXVI. 


THE  JUGGLER. 

A  mountebank  amidst  a  crowd 

Tlius  cried  aloud — 
"  Walk  \x\),  ^Messieurs  and  try  the  cure 
For  every  evil  men  endure  ! 
It  is  a  powder  wliicli  will  give 
All  things  for  ^vhicli  you  strive  and  live. 


82  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

To  fools  it  gives  intelligence  ; 
And  to  tlie  guilty  innocence. 
Honors  on  rascals  it  bestows, 
And  to  old  women  brings  young  beaux  ; 
Secures  old  men  young,  pretty  wives  ; 
Makes  madmen  lead  well-temper'd  lives — 
In  short,  whatever  you  would  gain, 
It  will  assist  you  to  attain. 
It  is  a  perfect  panacea." 

The  juggler's  table  I  drew  near. 
This  wond'rous  powder  to  behold 
Of  which  such  miracles  were  told. 
It  was  a  little  powder'd  gold  ! 


à 


THE    GRASSHOPPER. 


83 


FABLE    XXXS'II. 


THE  GRASSHOPPER. 

"  'Tis  over  now,  and  I  must  fly  ! 

This  odiiis  si2:lit  I  cannot  bear — 

The  crime,  the  rage,  tlie  misery, 

That  meet  my  vision  ev'rywhere  ! 

To  some  obscure  retreat  I'll  go, 

Far  from  abuses,  vice,  and  woe. 

The  ^vicked  knaves  who've  cross'd  my  path, 

I'll  visit  with  my  studied  wrath. 


84  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Only  because  I'd  upright  be, 

I've  got  the  whole  world's  enmity  ! 

Every  man,  and  child,  and  beast — 

Yes  ev'ry  little  bird, 

By  hate  and  envy  stirr'd, 
Do  make  of  me  their  scand'lous  feast. 

Oh  base  ingratitude  ! 
To  treat  one  thus  who  is  so  good. 
How  little  I  am  understood  ! 
They'll  yet  regret  what  they  have  done  ; 
But  only  when  I'm  dead  and  gone." 
Thus  in  hypochondriac  strain, 
A  grasshopper  did  once  complain. 
O'er  the  world's  wrongs  he  seem'd  to  groan, 
While  thinking  of  himself  alone. 
A  comrade  said, — "  Holla,  my  dear  ! 
How  did  you  come  by  that  idea  ? 
Why  not  enjoy  these  fields  in  peace  ? 
They  yield  for  you  their  rich  increase. 

Let  the  world  go, 

And  all  its  woe. 
What  is't  to  you,  I'd  like  to  know  ? 
'Tis  bad  and  always  will  be  so. 
You  cannot  shape  it  to  your  view 
By  all  that  you  may  say  or  do. 
Besides,  my  friend,  where  can  you  find 
A  world  more  suited  to  your  mind  ? 
And  as  to  having  this  world's  spite, 
I  think  you  are  mistaken  quite. 
It  is  a  fancy,  or  perchance 


I 


THE    GRASSHOPPER.  85 

Even  a  touch  of  arrogance, 

That  springs  from  your  o'erweening  pride, 

Katber  than  any  thing  beside." 

The  grasshopper  not  even  deign'd 

To  make  reply  when  thus  arraign'd, 

But  forthwith  from  his  old  home  flew, 

To  seek  a  new. 
When  finally  two  days  were  o'er, 
He'd  made  two  hundred  steps  or  more, 
And  fancied  that  at  last  he'd  found 
The  end  of  this  world's  farthest  bound. 
The  land  seem'd  new,  the  people  strange. 
The  wheat-fields  offer'd  a  fine  range. 

And  fill'd  him  with  delight. 
Their  long  stalks  waving  in  the  wind, 
Gave  welcome  to  his  troubl'd  mind; 

It  was  a  glorious  sight  ! 
"  Here  then,"  he  cried,  "  all  trouble  past, 
I've  found  security  at  last. 
No  more  shall  enemies  invade 
My  peace  within  this  friendly  shade." 

But  lo  ! 
"When  o'er  the  east  spread  morning's  glow, 
A  band  of  reapers  came  along. 
With  laugh,  and  jest,  and  merry  song. 
And  'neatli  their  sickles  fell  the  grain 
All  level  with  the  naked  plain  ; 
And  to  the  view  the  spot  disclos'd, 
Where  our  unfortunate  i-eposd. 
^'  There  'tis  again  !  "  the  insect  cried, 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

"  When  will  my  foes  be  satisfied  ? 
Turn  where  I  will,  I'm  still  pursu'd, 
For  having  done  the  world  some  good  ! 
Scarce  have  I  reach'd  this  distant  land, 
AVhen  Fm  assail'd  on  ev'ry  hand. 
These  foes  come  here  to  seek  me  out. 
And  in  their  mad,  infernal  rout. 
Would  almost  any  means  employ, 
So  that  they  might  my  life  annoy, 
Yes,  even  their  own  crops  destroy. 
I  really  think  to  glut  their  ire, 
They'd  set  their  very  fields  on  fire." 
Then  to  the  reapers  thus  he  said, — 
"  Come  !  let  your  wrath  fall  on  my  head  ; 
You've  hunted  me  like  thing  accurs'd, 
And  now,  Messieurs,  just  do  your  worst  !  " 
A  busy  worker  at  the  sheaf. 
By  chance  observ'd  his  mighty  grief  : 
He  seized  him,  held  him  up  to  view, 
Then  flung  him  where  bright  flowers  grew 
"  Go  !  "  he  exclaira'd,  "  where  posies  are  ; 
Go,  little  friend,  get  supper  there  !  " 


THE    HEDGEHOG    AND    THE    RABBITS. 


87 


FABLB    XXXVni. 

THE  HEDGEHOG  AND  THE  KABBITS. 

Some  characters  are  ue'er  at  ease, 
And  always  must  be  makiuo^  war  : 
They  like  to  sting,  and  to  displease, 
And  liighly  gifted  at  it  are. 
To  me  they  are  a  perfect  pest. 
Though  they  be  wise  as  Solomon, 
And  have  e'en  royal  garments  on, 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Yet  their  rude  manners  I  detest. 
The  robes  of  vh'tue's  self  should  be 

Politeness  and  civility. 
A  hedgehog  once  of  evil  fame, 
Forc'd  from  his  home  by  some  disgrace, 
Unto  a  rabbit-warren  came, 
Burning  with  hate  against  his  race. 
He  told  the  gentle  inmates  there, 
All  that  he'd  sufîer'd  every  v,diere  ; 
Against  his  foes  exhal'd  his  bile. 
And  ask'd  asylum  for  a  while. 
"  With  pleasure,  sir,"  the  leader  said, 
"  You'll  here  find  shelter,  board,  and  bed. 
Be  one  of  us  ;  make  free  and  bold  ; 
We  all  things  here  in  common  hold. 
We  simple,  frugal  people  are. 
And  have  no  great  affairs  on  hand  ; 
To  croj^  the  clover  our  chief  care, 
Or  nibble  o'er  the  dewy  land. 
At  the  first  streak  of  early  dawn, 
We're  out  betimes  upon  the  lawn. 
The  dangers  from  our  homes  to  ward. 
Each  takes  his  turn  in  standing-  o;uard. 
And  when  the  sentry  gives  alarm. 
We're  oiï  at  once  to  hide  from  harm. 
Thus  with  our  little  ones  and  wives, 
We  pass  our  happy,  cheerful  lives. 
These  lives,  'tis  true,  are  oft  cut  short, 
And  made  of  dogs  and  boys  the  sj)ort. 
But  this  good  reason  serves  to  give 


THE    HEDGEHOG    AND    THE    RABBITS. 

Why  we  make  merry  while  we  live. 
We  study  friendship,  love,  and  peace, 
And  our  enjoyments  thus  increase. 
Life  we  embellish  all  we  may, 
By  kind  attentions  all  the  day. 
If  you're  content  with  us  to  be, 
Then  come  and  Join  our  colony. 
If  not,  why  then  at  least  you'll  stay, 
And  take  your  dinner  here  to-day. 
You'd  please  us  with  your  company." 
The  hedgehog  to  these  Avords  replied — 
"  It  would,  indeed,  give  me  great  pride, 
With  such  good  people  to  reside." 
Then  every  rabbit  forward  press'd, 
And  civilly  their  joy  express'd. 
With  oiïer'd  welcome  to  their  o-uest. 

o 

All  things  went  w^ell  till  night  had  come, 
AVhen  discord  rent  the  happy  home. 
For  Avhen  at  supper  they  began 
For  morro\v's  work  to  fix  the  plan, 
The  hedgehog,  bent  to  have  his  will. 
At  a  young  rabbit  shot  a  quill. 
"  Excuse  me,  friend,"  the  father  says  ; 
"  I'm  not  accustom'd  to  such  Avays." 
This  rais'd  the  bristling  hedgehog's  ire, 
And  caus'd  him  right  and  left  to  fire 

His  angry  darts. 
First  one  and  then  another  smarts, 
Until  no  longer  they  can  stand 
The  stings  he  gives  on  ev'ry  hand. 


90  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

They  gather  round  him  aud  complain. 
'•'  Messieurs/'  said  he,  "  your  talk  is  vain  ; 
It  is  my  nature  so  to  do, 
And  I  can't  change  it  to  please  you.'''' 
The  leader  then  exclaim'd — "  My  friend, 
If  such  bad  manners  you  can't  mend  ; 
If  you  cannot  your  quills  suppress, 
At  least  draw  over  them  some  dress  ; 
Or,  failing  this,  then  let  me  say, 
From  decent  people  stay  away." 


I 


THE    WHITE    ELEPHANT,  91- 

FABLE    XXXIX 

THE  WHITE  ELEPHANT. 

Far  ill  a  certaiii  eastern  land 

The  people  in  great  rev'rence  stand 

In  presence  of  the  elephant. 

He's  lodg  d  in  style  most  elegant 

(That  is,  if  so  the  brute  be  white), 

And  for  him  men  fierce  battles  fight  : 

For  prize  so  rare 

States  go  to  war  ; 
He's  always  serv'd  on  golden  plate  ; 
And  so  divine  is  his  estate 
That  when  folks  meet  him  walking  forth, 
They  bow  before  him  to  the  earth. 

One  of  these  people's  pets  one  day 

(A  sound  clear  thinker  by  the  way) 

To  his  conductor  said  : — "  I  i)ray 

Why  are  such  honors  shown  to  me  ? 

For  I  am  but  a  beast,  you  see." 

"  Ah  !  you're  too  humble,"  said  his  guide  : 

"We  know  wdiat's  due 

To  one  like  you  ; 
And  all  our  India  knows  beside, 
That  when  our  heroes  come  to  die. 
Their  souls  into  your  body  fly, 
And  there  for  some  tune  must  endure. 

Priests  tell  us  so, 

And  hence  we  know. 

The  thing  is  sure." 


92  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

"  What  !  do  you  think  us  heroes  then  ?  '^ 
"  Yes  ;  so  believe  our  best  of  men." 
"  And  should  we,  if  it  were  not  so, 

Be  free  to  go 
And  wander  through  the  Avide  domain 
Of  our  own  native  woods  again  ?  " 
"  Oh  yes,  my  Lord." — "  Then  let  me  go  ;; 
For  you're  deceiv'd,  as  I  can  show  : — 
Our  race  is  proud,  yet  still  caressing; 
Gentle,  though  great  po^\•er  possessing  ; 
We  never  hurt,  as  you  may  see, 
Nor  injure  those  less  strong  than  we  : 
Our  hearts  can  love,  yet,  from  lust  free^ 
Observe  the  laws  of  chastity  ; 
And  ne'er  do  we  our  honors  earn 
By  loss  of  virtue  in  return. 
Since  this  is  so,  how  can  you  then, 
Think  we  possess  the  souls  of  men  ?  "■ 


THE    GUILTY    DOG. 


9a 


FABLE    XL. 

THE   GUILTY  DOG. 

At  lenirtli  the  awful  news  was  spread — 

Towser  liad  killVl  the  pet  lamb  dead  ! 

AVho  could  believe  the  tidings  true, 

That  Towser  such  a  deed  would  do  ? 

The  dread  of  wolves,  the  shepherd's  friend — 

How  could  he  come  to  such  an  end  i 


94  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

And  not  alone  a  lamb  he'd  kill'd, 
But  her  own  mother's  blood  had  spill'd  ! 
Nor  was  this  the  ^vorst  of  it, 
For  e'en  the  shepherd  he  had  bit  ! 
If  this  be  true, 
Then  what's  the  world  a-comino;  to  ? 

'Twas  thus  beside  a  brooklet's  course, 
Two  sheep  engaged  in  sad  discourse. 
It  was  an  undisputed  fact, 
He  had  been  captured  in  the  act. 
Towser  himself  confess'd  his  crime. 
And  would  be  punish'd  in  short  time. 
The  shepherds  had  resolv'd  that  he 
A  warning  to  all  dogs  should  be. 

With  triple  murder  being  charg'd, 

The  case  went  through  the  court  with  speed, 

Upon  tlie  crime  the  judge  enlarged — 

Tlie  witnesses  were  all  agreed, 

And  he  was  sentenced  to  be  shot 

Upon  the  very  self-same  spot 

Where  he  had  done  the  deed. 
The  whole  farm  then  turn'd  out  to  see 

The  execution  done. 
The  lambs  beseeched  for  clemency  ; 

The  fanner  granted  none. 
He  made  them  take  their  place  assign'd  ; 
The  dogs  took  their's  near  by,  resign'd, 
Humbled  and  lorn,  with  drooping  ears  ; 
The  cheeks  of  some  were  bath'd  in  tears. 


THE    GUILTY    DOG.  95 

All  mournVl  for  their  friend  Towser's  fate, 
AdcI  all  ill  fuu'ral  silence  sate, 

Or  sobbing  cried  aloud. 
At  length  between  two  shepherds  bound, 
Towser  was  led  upon  the  ground, 

And  thus  address'd  the  crowd  : 

"  Oh,  you  whom  I  no  longer  dare 

To  call  my  friends  as  formerly. 

Of  my  example  all  be\vare, 

And  take  this  warnins^  word  from  me. 

A  virtuous  course  of  fifteen  years 

Is  now  to  close  in  blood  and  tears. 

"  My  crimes  are  these  : — at  early  day 
As  I  near  by  a  forest  lay, 
Guarding  the  ilock,  a  -sv'olf  sprang  out, 
And  bore  a  bleeding  lamb  away. 
We  fought — I  put  him  to  the  rout. 
So  far  so  good.     But  when  I  saw 
The  mangled  lambkin  near  me  lie, 
And  felt  the  tempting  morsel  draw, 
I  could  not  help  one  taste  to  try. 

The  sidiht  and  smell  of  blood 
Had  made  me  ravenous  for  food. 
'Tis  true  I  hesitated  long, 
But  yet  my  appetite  was  strong  ; 
And  so  I  yielded,  and  at  last. 
Of  the  slain  lamb  made  a  repast  ; 

Such  was  the  source  of  all  my  woe. 
The  mother  sheep  I  fearVl  might  go 


«6  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

And  tell  the  shepherd  what  I'd  done, 
And  say  that  I  had  kill'd  her  son. 
So  therefore  without  more  ado 
To  silence  her,  I  kill'd  her  too. 

My  head  was  turn'd  ; 

With  rage  I  burn'd  ; 
And  what  I  did  I  hardly  knew; 
I  even  at  my  master  flew. 
Until  at  last  I  am  brought  here, 
To  terminate  my  sad  career. 
From  this  career  you  may  take  heed, 
Lest  your  small  faults  to  great  ones  lead. 
The  slightest  wrong,  however  small. 
May  lead  the  wisest  to  his  fall. 
Of  all  false  steps  beware  of  this — 
The  first  one  towards  a  precipice." 


THE    SAGE    ADVICE. 


97 


FABLK     XU. 


THE  SAGE  ADVICE. 

A  ilying-fisli,  tired  of  her  lot, 

Unto  her  mother  thus  complaiu'd  : — 

"  You  may  be  pleas'd,  but  I  am  not, 


98  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

To  live  forever  thus  constraiuVl. 

I  cannot  leap  into  the  air, 

But  what  the  eagle's  waiting  there. 
And  if  I  dive  into  the  sea, 
The  dolphin  there  is  after  me." 
The  dame  replied  in  accents  mild, 
"  I've  found  in  this  strange  world,  my  child, 

And  now  must  let  you  know, 
For  medium  folks  as  you  and  I, 
We  should  not  ever  soar  too  high, 

Nor  ever  dive  too  low." 


THE    DOG    AND    CAT. 


99 


KO'OGf-"f' 


FABLE    XLH. 


THE  DOG  AND   CAT. 

'Tis  of  a  dog  the  story's  told, 

How,  being  by  his  master  sold, 

At  his  new  home  he  would  not  stay. 

But  broke  liis  chain  and  ran  away. 

Keturning  to  his  old  abode, 

How  great  was  his  surprise  to  find 

That  no  one  there  a  welcome  show'd. 


100  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Or  friendliness  of  any  kind  ! 
He  found  no  greeting  as  before, 
But  with  rebuffs, 
And  kicks  and  cuffs, 
Was  driven  from  tlie  door. 
Grimalkin  sat  with  wond'ring  eyes 
As  she  beheld  her  friend's  surprise, 
And  ventured  this  remark  to  make  : 
"  That  you  and  I  are  lov'd,  'tis  true  ; 
But  what  a  fool,  indeed,  are  you, 
To  think  we're  priz'd  for  oiw  sake  !  " 


THE    CANARY    AND    THE    CROW. 


101 


FABLE    XLIII. 

THE  CANARY  AND  THE  CROAV. 

Together  were  two  cages  bimg, 

For  music  and  for  show  ; 
lu  one  a  fine  canary  sung, 

In  t'other  screecird  a  crow. 
One  charm'd  the  household  with  his  song, 
The  other  vex'd  it  with  his  cries  ; 
Forever  cawing  all  day  long, 
He  caird  for  bread,  and  cakes,  and  pies. 


102  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

And  people  fed  him  to  bis  fill, 
As  the  best  way  to  keep  him  still. 
Loud  rang  the  sweet  canary's  strain, 
He  ask'd  for  naught,  and  sung  in  vain. 
For  none  supplied  his  pressing  needs, 
Or  gave  him  water,  or  his  seeds. 

Those  most  delighted  by  his  chants. 
Were  quite  oblivious  of  his  wants. 
They  liked  him  well  enough,  'twas  true, 
But  never  gave  him  what  was  due. 
At  last  one  day  they  found  him  dead. 
Merely  for  want  of  being  fed. 
"  Alas  !  "  folks  cried,  "  how  can  we  spare 
A  songster  so  beyond  compare  ! 
How  could  he  die  ? — a  bird  so  rare  !  " 

But  while  they  thus  express  surprise, 
The  crow  keeps  up  his  stunning  cries, 
And  still  is  fed  on  cakes  and  pies. 


1 


THE    MOXKEY    WITH    A    MAGIC    LAXTERX. 


103 


.éêik\ 


-M.i'iiif' 


^'âk& 


FABLE    XLIY. 

THE  MOXKEY  WITH  A  MAGIC  LAXTERX 

All  geDtlemeu  who  verses  write, 
111  style  inaofiiificeiit  and  li-i-aiid, 
But  Avlu)  can  ne'er  a  line  indite, 
AYliicli  coiniiion  folks  may  understand. 
Please  listen  to  the  tale  I  tell, 


104  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

And  on  its  meaning  23onder  well. 
A  man  ^vllose  business  'twas  to  show 

A  magic  lantern  round, 
Had  a  fine  monkey,  Light  Jacqueau, 
The  nicest  trickster  ever  found. 
He  could  dance,  and  leap,  and  spring  ; 
Was  great  at  tight-rope  balancing  ; 
A  thousand  tricks  this  Jacqueau  knew, 
Which  custom  to  his  master  drew. 

One  day  his  master  went  away. 

To  celebrate  some  holiday, 

And  left  him  at  the  inn  to  stay. 

There  entered  then  this  monkey's  head^ 

The  strangest  fancy  ever  bred  : 

For  what  does  he  but  straightway  go. 

To  cats  and  dogs, 

To  hens  and  hogs, 

To  geese  and  ducks, 

And  turkey-cocks, 
To  come  and  see  the  mastic  show. 

"  Walk  in.  Messieurs  ;  I  nothing  ask  ; 
Believe  me,  'tis  a  pleasing  task  !  " 

They  take  their  seats  ;  the  lantern's  brought  ; 
He  makes  a  speech  most  highly  wrought. 
Which — as  we  say  in  modern  lore — 
Was  welcom'd  with  a  perfect  roar. 
Encouraged  by  the  warm  applause. 
The  window  shutters  then  he  draws, 
Into  the  lantern  puts  a  screen 


TUE    MONKEY    WITH    A     MAGIC    LANTERN.  105 

As  he  had  oft  his  master  seen — 

"  Here  you  may  see,"  said  he,  "  the  sun, 

His  pristine  glory  just  begun  ; 

And  presently  the  moon  you'll  see, 

And  the  first  pair's  felicity, 

Adam  and  Eve,  and  all  our  race — 

Behold  what  beauty  !  and  what  grace  ! 

Was  ever  anything  so  fine  ? 
And  here  you'll  see  a  sight  divine." 

But  how  could  they  behold  the  sight, 
Where  all  was  close  and  dark  as  night  ? 
However  much  their  eyes  they  strain, 
And  strive  to  see,  they  strive  in  vain. 
"  My  faith  !  "  tli'  impatient  cat  exclaim'd, 
"  Of  all  the  wonders  he  has  nam'd — 
Of  all  the  sights  he's  dwelt  upon, 
I  have  not  seen  a  single  one." 
"  Neither  have  I,"  the  dog  replied  ; 
"  I've  not  a  single  thing  descried." 
The  turkey  something  saw,  he  thought, 
But  could  not  tell  exactly  what. 
Yet  little  this  concern'd  Jacqueau, 
AVIk)  rattled  on  like  Cicero. 
His  style  was  good  and  masterly  ; 
His  language  choice,  and  diction  free  ; 
But  one  thing  he'd  forgotten  (juite — 
Althouirh  he  work'd  his  lantern  riçrht, 
He  had  not  put  therein  a  light  ! 


106 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE    XLV. 


THREE  FORTUNE-SEEKERS. 

Au  ermine,  beaver,  aud  youug  boar, 
AVho  had  no  fortune  'neath  the  sun. 
But  Avho  had  hopes  of  getting  one, 
Set  out  the  countr}^  to  explore. 
At  last,  their  many  trials  o'er, 
They  reach'd  a  most  delightful  laud. 


THE    THREE    FORTUNE-HUNTERS.  107 

Where  beauties  shone  ou  ev'ry  hand, 

In  wealth  of  meadows,  orchards,  woods, 

And  all  the  treasures  of  the  iloods. 

Our  pilgrims  seeiug  scenes  so  fair, 

Were  in  a  perfect  ecstasy, 

As  ^neas  and  his  Trojans  were, 

With  their  first  view  of  Italy. 

But  all  this  happy  land,  alas  ! 

Lay  circled  by  a  black  morass. 

Where  frightful  lizards,  snakes,  and  toads 

Were  wont  to  make  their  foul  abodes. 

Brought  to  a  sto^J,  they  take  a  view, 

And  ponder  what  they're  next  to  do. 

The  ermine  trying  with  her  paw. 

Decides  at  once  that  she'll  withdraw. 

"  My  friends,"  said  she,  "  take  my  advice, 

Tliis  land  is  not  so  very  nice. 

To  reach  it  we  must  cross  the  sloucrh. 

And  that  my  coat  ^vould  ruin  so. 

That  I  should  die. 
Some  other  country  let  us  try." 
*'  Have  patience,  dear,"  the  beaver  said  ; 
"  These  things  requii-e  a  little  head. 
We  need  not  always  get  a  stain. 
In  coming  at  the  point  we'd  gain. 
As  I'm  a  mason,  I  can  throw, 
In  fifteen  davs  o'er  this  foul  slouch 
A  bridge  b}'  which  we  can  pass  o'er. 
And  harmless  reach  the  farther  shore." 
"  In  fifteen  days  !  "  exclaim'd  the  boar  ; 


108  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

"The  tiling  much  sooner  can  be  done; 
I'll  show  you  how  in  less  than  one." 
Then  in  he  leaps  into  the  slime, 
Amidst  the  lizards,  toads,  and  snakes  ; 
Most  lustily  his  way  he  makes. 
And  flounders  over  in  short  time. 
Arriv'd  upon  the  other  side. 
He  shook  the  mud  off  from  his  hide, 
And  then  with  pompous,  proud  display. 
Back  to  his  friends  this  scorn  he  hurl'd  : — 
"  If  you  would  prosper  in  this  world, 
You  must,  as  I've  done,  push  your  Avay." 


THE    PERSECUTED    POODLE. 


109 


FABLE    XLVl. 

THE  PERSECUTED  POODLE. 

A  shaggy  poodle  being  shorn 
So  as  to  have  a  lion's  mane, 
Could  hardly  longer  well  be  borne, 
He  so  conceited  was  and  vain  ; 
F(  )r  vanity  Avill  sure  deceive 


110  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

All  who  her  flattery  receive. 

We  ou  this  liead  a  story  know. 

It  came  to  pass,  not  long  ago. 

That  after  long  and  bloody  strife, 

AVhere  many  a  lion  lost  his  life. 

The  elephant  the  victor  was. 

Who  thereupon  decreed  these  laws  : — 

That  brawls  and  blood-shed  to  prevent, 

All  into  exile  must  be  sent 

Who  civil  war  and  strife  foment  ; 

And  never  more  should  lions  come 

AVithin  his  realms  to  make  their  home. 

The  lions,  overcome,  subdu'd. 

And  by  their  enemies  pursu'd. 

Were  hunted  down  on  ev'ry  hand, 

And  forc'd  to  fly  and  leave  the  land. 

Their  fate  admitted  no  relief  ; 

But  still  they  made  the  best  of  it. 

They  kept  their  courage  with  their  grief. 

And  learn'd  in  patience  to  submit. 

But  ^vith  our  poodle  'twas  not  so  : 

The  dread  decree  fill'd  him  with  woe. 

"  Oh,  am  I  then,"  he  moaning  cried, 

"No  lono:er  sufïerVl  here  to  dwell? 

Must  I  in  other  lands  reside, 

Far  from  the  scenes  I've  lov'd  so  well  ? 

And  in  my  old  age  too  ! 
Oh  barb'rous  king  to  drive  me  forth 
From  this  dear  spot  that  gave  me  birth, 

Wliich  I  no  more  shall  view  ! 


THE    PERSECUTED    POODLE,  lU 

I  go  unaided  and  in  gloom, 

In  foreign  lands  to  seek  a  tomb; 

And  even  that  may  be  denied  ! 

And  all  to  please  this  tyrant's  pride, 

AVbo  only  thus  is  satisfied  !  " 

A  spaniel  heard  the  pug  complain, 

And  touch'd  at  heart  "with  so  much  pain, 

Ask'd  why  he  felt  obliged  to  ily. 

''  Why  ?  "  said  the  pug,  "  do  you  ask  ivJiij  ? 

Just  look  and  see  that  hard  decree, 

How  cruel  and  severe  on  me  !  " 

The  spaniel  cried  : — 
"That  law  with  lioii^  has  to  do  ; 
But  what  concern  is  that  to  you  f  " 

The  pug  replied  : — 
"  Why,  am  not  /  a  lion  too  ?  " 


112 


FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


FABLE     XLVII. 

THE  DOVE  AND  THE  MAGPIE. 

Once  on  a  time  a  dove  bad  built 
Her  nest  near  where  a  magpie  dwelt. 
It  must  be  own'd  the  neio-hborhood 
Could  not  be  reckon'd  very  good. 
But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there  ; 
We  simply  state  things  as  they  were. 
In  the  dwelling  of  the  dove. 


THE    DOVE    AND     THE    MAGPIE.  113 

Ev'rything  was  peace  an<l  love, 

AVhile  in  t'other  all  was  strife — 

Husband  fighting  with  the  \vife, 

Broken  esffrs  and  wretched  life. 
Twas  one  da}'  after  being  beat, 
The  magpie  sought  the  dove's  retreat, 

Where  she  chatter'd,  scolded,  cried 
Told  all  she  knew  and  more  beside. 
And  with  her  clamor  fill'd  the  house 
About  the  failings  of  her  spouse. 
*'  He  is  exacting,  hard,  and  proud," 

She  shriek'd  aloud, 
''  x\nd  passionate  and  Jealous  too  ; 

And  yet  he  goes 

To  see  the  crows, 
As  I  can  well  attest  to  you." 
And  in  her  auger  she  gave  vent 
To  many  thino-s  of  like  intent. 
"  But  you,^'  the  gentle  dove  replied, 
"  Have  you  no  faults  on  your  side  ?  " 
"  1  liave,^^  the  pie  resum'd,  "'tis  true; 
And  I  may  say,  betAveen  us  t^^■o, 
In  my  behavior  I've  been  light. 
And  sometimes  shown  a  deal  of  spite. 
I've  often,  too,  play'd  the  coquette, 
Merely  to  see  him  writhe  and  fret." 
(Pies  hardly  would  this  fault  admit 
If  they  thought  doves  would  credit  it.) 
"  But  what  of  that  i  I'd  like  to  know, 
Don't  other  l)irds  do  even  so  ?  " 


114  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

"  Oil  no,  indeed,"  the  dove  rejoined  ; 

"  You'll  never  peace  in  that  way  find. 

If  thus  you  irritate  }'our  mate, 

You  give  him  cause  for  all  his  hate." 

"/give  him  cause  !  "  the  pie  exclaim VI, 

With  anger  at  the  dove  inflam'd, 

"  That's  very  bright,  upon  my  word  ! 

Such  impudence  ^vho  ever  heard  ? 

When  I  come  here  for  sympathy. 

You  set  about  abusing  me  ! 

Keep  your  advice  at  home,  say  I, 

And  so,  impertinence,  good  bye  !  " 

Quite  too  indignant  to  say  more. 

She  flung  impatient  from  the  door. 

Enraged  to  find  herself  oppos'd, 

By  her  own  faults  which  she'd  disclos'd. 


THE    SQUIRREL,     THE    DOG,    AND    THE    FOX. 


11» 


•'•'.  OR'.NB/ILl 


FABLE    XLVm. 

THE  SQUIRREL,  THE  DOG,  AND  THE  FOX. 

A  dog  and  squirrel  liaiid  in  liund. 

Where  one  time  trav'ling  tliroiigli  the  land, 

AVhen  they  were  caught  as  night  came  down. 

In  a  large  forest  far  fi"om  town. 

No  friendly  inn  was  there  t'afford 


116  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Its  hospitable  bed  aud  board. 
So  in  an  old  and  hollow  tree, 

The  dog  for  shelter  search'd, 
While  his  good  friend,  the  squirrel,  he 

Among  the  branches  pereh'd. 
Towards  midnight,  at  that  solemn  hour 
When  to  their  crimes  sly  murd'rers  creep^ 
When  somnolence  asserts  its  power, 
And  our  two  friends  were  sunk  in  sleep, 
Lo  !  an  old  fox  athii'st  for  blood. 
Came  prowling  through  the  silent  wood. 
He  saw  the  squirrel  on  a  limb, 

And  thus  accosted  him  : — 
"  My  friend,  I  pray  you  pardon  me, 
I  would  not  so  intrusive  be 
As  to  disturb  your  sweet  repose, 
But  that  I'm  dying  to  disclose 
My  true  heart-felt  felicity 

To  find  that  you  and  I 
In  blood  relationship  are  nigh  : 
We're  cousins  of  the  first  degree  ! 
For  your  good  mother,  I've  heard  said^ 
Was  sister  to  my  worthy  sire. 
Who  bade  me,  on  his  dying  bed, 
For  you,  his  nephew,  to  inquire. 
And  give  you  half  the  legacy 

He  left  for  me. 
So  haste,  my  friend,  come  down  I  pray, 
And  have  your  portion  right  away. 
I  burn  to  meet  you  face  to  face. 


THE    SQUIRREL,     THE    DOG,    AND    THE    FOX.  117 

More  fully  to  explain  tlie  case. 

If  I,  like  yon,  conld  climb  a  tree, 

Indeed,  you  well  may  credit  me, 

I  had  been  witli  you  long  ere  this, 

To  show  how  great  my  pleasure  is." 

Now  squirrels  though  not  bred  in  schools. 

Are  not  by  any  means  all  fools  ; 

And  ours  was  shrewd  enough  to  see 

Quite  through  the  fox's  knavery. 

So  he  replied  in  tones  most  kind  : — 

"  I  am  delighted,  friend,  to  find 

That  we  so  near  related  are. 

Your  happiness  I  fully  share  ; 

And  I  shall  hurry  to  descend. 

But  ere  I  come  I  have  a  friend 

That  I  would  introduce  to  you. 

He  is  a  near  relation  too  : 

One  who  is  all  in  all  to  me, 

Whom  you'll  be  glad,  perhaps,  to  see  ; 

He's  sleeping  in  that  hole  below  ; 

Knock  at  the  door  and  call  him  out  : 

He'll  warmly  welcome  you,  I  know. 

On  learning  what  you've  come  about." 

Old  Reynard  hurries  to  the  door. 

Hoping  to  get  one  squirrel  more  ; 

But  on  the  instant  that  lie  knocks, 

The  dog,  awak'd  from  slumbers  sound, 

Springs  out,  and  at  a  single  bound. 

Upon  the  sj^ot  kills  Mister  Fox. 

The  offices  of  a  true  friend 


118  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 


May  not  aloue  our  life  defend  ; 
No  greater  blessing  can  there  be, 
Than  solace  from  his  sympathy. 


FABLE    XLIX. 

KING  ALPHONSO. 

A  certain  kins;  who  held  his  rei2:n 
Where  Tagus  mingles  with  the  main, 
Alplionso  called,  surnam'd  The  Wise — 
(Not  so  surnam'd  because  discreet. 
But  just  because  he  thought  it  meet 

To  scan  the  skies) — 
Knew  much  of  all  phenomena. 
And  was  a  great  astronomer. 
More  of  the  heavens  he  came  to  know, 
Than  of  his- kingdom  here  below; 
For  when  to  council  call'd,  he'd  soon 
Run  off  to  view  the  sun  or  moon. 
At  length  one  day  when  going  to 
His  telescope  to  take  a  view, 
The  gentry  round  him  he  address'd  : — 
■"  Messieurs  !  I  am  at  last  possess'd 
Of  instruments,  by  which,  to-night, 
I  hope  to  see  the  wond'rous  sight 
Of  men  within  our  satellite  !  " 
"  No  doubt  you  will,"  a  courtier  cried, 
^'  And  many  other  things  beside." 
Meantime  a  poor  street-beggar  bow'd, 
And  ask'd  for  pennies  from  the  crowd. 


DEATHS    CHOICE    OF    PRIME    MINISTER.  119 

The  king  could  neither  hear  nor  see 
Tlie  man's  appeal  for  charity  ; 
But  all  absoi'b'd  pursuxl  his  way, 
Unheeding  wliat  the  man  might  say. 
Yet  still  the  beggar  humbly  pray'd  ; 
Beseeching  held  his  hand  for  aid, 
And  much  the  king  did  importune. 
But  still  the  king  with  thoughts  on  high, 
Made  ever  still  this  same  reply  : — 
"  I  shall  see  men  within  the  moon.'" 
At  last  the  poor  man  in  distress, 
Seiz'd  on  the  monarch's  royal  dress, 

And  gravely  said  : — 
"You'll  find  men  here,  men  who  need  bread: 
You  need  not  look  for  them  up  there  ; 
They're  here,  around  you,  ev'rywhere. 
Tlds  realm  God  gave  you  for  a  boon, 
Not  one  up  yonder  in  the  moon." 


FABLE     L. 

DEATH'S  CHOICE  OF  PRIME  MINISTER. 

Once  on  a  time  there  Avas  a  king 
Who  wish'd  his  state  more  flourishinsf. 
In  hell  he  reai-'d  his  awful  tlirone, 
(As  King  of  Terrors  he  is  known) 
And,  as  the  case  did  nuicli  impoit, 
He  call'd  tocjether  his  whole  c<nirt. 
The  question  was  what  plague  should  be 
The  chief  aid  to  his  majest}'. 
First,  from  the  lowest  hell  there  came 


120  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Three  spirits  of  most  dreadful  fame, 

Fever,  Gout,  and  War. 
Death  gave  them  welcome  ;  for,  of  all 
The  ills  that  plague  our  earthly  ball. 

These  most  dreaded  are. 
Then  Pest  steps  for^vard — all  agree 
That  he  too,  has  great  potency. 
Then  comes  a  Doctor,  at  whose  name 
'Twas  evident  he  had  a  claim. 
Which  caused  e'en  Death  himself  to  doubt 
How  his  selection  must  turn  out. 
But  when  the  Vices  all  advance. 
Death  could  no  longer  hesitate 
Which  most  his  service  would  enhance, 
Or  which  was  his  true  candidate  : 
Vice  of  all  vice — Intemperance — 
He  chose  prime  minister  of  state. 


FABLE      LI. 

THE  JOURNEY. 

To  set  out  ere  the  dawn  of  day, 

Groping  in  darkness  for  the  way, 

Caring  for  naught,  nor  making  quest 

If  going  North,  South,  East,  or  West  ; — 

From  fall  to  fall  to  stumble  on 

Till  near  one-third  the  course  be  run  : 

Then,  as  the  dark  clouds  gather  round. 

To  enter  on  unstable  ground. 

Yet  pushing  onwards,  though  quite  lost, 

'Midst  thick'niug  doubts,  and  tempest  tost, 


CLOSING    LINES,  121 

Witli  no  sure  aim,  no  end  in  view. 
And  seldom  knowing  what  to  do  ; — 
Driven,  forc'd  on,  and  in  great  stress, 
Seeking  some  spot,  some  safe  recess, 
Where  to  arrive  all  out  of  breath. 

And  there  to  creep 

To  the  last  sleep — 
Such  then  is  Birth,  and  Life,  and  Death; 
This  is  the  way  we  journey  on  : — 

God's  will  l)e  done  ! 


CLOSING  LINES. 

*'Tis  done  :  the  lyre  is  mute  ; 
My  labors  here  must  have  an  end  ; 
Though  still  the  Muse  might  Avrongs  impute, 
That  should  perchance  our  manners  mend, 
(If  she  but  had  an  abler  friend). 

But  no  ;  her  work  would  prove  in  vain  ; 
For  the  world's  folly,  int'rest,  pride. 
Will  e'er  bring  trouble  in  their  train, 
However  much  they  be  decried. 
'Tis  vain  that  philosoi)hic  sects 
May  censure  man  for  his  defects  ; 
They  waste  their  wisdom  and  their  rhymes». 
Let  the  world  wag  !  Go  with  the  times  ! 

Or  live  retir'd,  content  and  free, 

In  some  deep-hid  obscurity. 

There,  what  could  fail  us  that  might  bless 


122  FLORIAN'S    FABLES. 

Our  lives  with  perfect  happiness  ? 

Save  gentle  peace,  a  tranquil  lot  ; 

Our  only  wish  to  be  forgot  ; 

Our  sole  endeavor  how  to  shun 

The  ills  by  which  we're  prey'd  upon  ; 

With  wealth  enough  with  friends  to  share. 

But  not  to  waken  envy  there. 


THE  END 


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